


The Convergence of the Wrong the Right and the Woefully Misguided

by destielficstocope



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Crazy Castiel, Explicit Sexual Content, Godstiel: Castiel as God, Leviathan Castiel, M/M, Mental Disorders, Multiple Personalities, Murderers, Panic Attacks, Prison, Prison guard!Dean, Prisoner!Castiel, Rape/Non-con Elements, Schizophrenia, Serial Killer Castiel, Slow Build, explicit for later chapters, it fits, mentions of torture, seriel-killer quotes, sex later on, supernatural universe, that's weird but like, when they like do the sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielficstocope/pseuds/destielficstocope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inmanis Penitentiary is one of the most strict, most heavily guarded, and most dangerous prisons in the country and possibly the world.  Not only because it contains the most murderous, insane, blood-thirsty prisoners you could imagine, but because most of them aren't even human.  Dean Winchester has worked at the prison for years and he's pretty much seen it all, that is, until Castiel Caelum is admitted. </p><p> Castiel Caelum has gone down in history as one of the most homicidal and twisted mass-murderers to ever exist, having killed thousands of innocent people within the span of just a few short months.  But why did he do it?   Dean doesn't know what to think, not being able to place the calm and serene exterior that is Castiel with the same man who was capable of such horrible deeds.  Maybe Castiel Caelum isn't all he appears to be.  As Dean continues to get to know the odd prisoner, secrets begin to unravel and he finds himself falling slowly for the man he had previously despised and comes to the scary realization that the lines between good and evil-heroes and villains-aren't as defined as he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> Now, I was originally going to enter this into the Dean & Cas Big Bang this year, but due to complications with my eyes, I won't be able to :/ So, I decided to just go ahead and start posting it here. I already have the first couple of chapters typed out and such and I will try to post a chapter every week (if it gets enough feedback that is, I don't want to waste my time writing a story that sucks, ya' know what I mean?) so, yeah (: I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Okay, now a little info on this before you start reading. I know the way this prison works isn't exactly how normal prisons work-I did that on purpose-but it is close. The story may or may not make sense at the beginning but bear with me, it will soon enough. This is also un-beta'd so any mistakes you find are totally my bad.
> 
> Oh! And I do not own Supernatural or these characters (even though that admittedly would be kinda' nice)
> 
> So, yeah let me know what you think! I'm totally open to constructive criticism (it's been a while since I've last written anything). I would love to hear your opinions and advice!
> 
> Well, I think that's all...
> 
> Enjoy, Darlings! :)

 

_“You want to believe in black and white,_

_Good and evil, heroes that are truly heroic,_

_Villains that are just plain bad._

_But, I’ve learned in the past year that things_

_Are rarely so simple._

_The good guys can do some truly awful things_

_And the bad guys can truly surprise the hell out of you.”_

_-Karen Marie Manning_

 

 

_Breaking News:  This just in, the infamous mass murderer, Castiel Caelum is now in Custody. This started when a call came into the police station early this morning from two fisherman who were out on the lake in Colorado when they noticed a seemingly lifeless body that had washed ashore.  When they approached the body they became aware that the man was not dead, but unconscious.  The fishermen immediately called 911 assuming the man would need medical attention.  Little did they know, they had just stumbled across one of the most sought after men in the country, Castiel Caelum, for those of you who aren’t aware of his crimes, is known for…._

It had been a long road coming.  Dean Winchester flashed his security card on the ID scanner before pushing the door open and entering into the office where people were currently in a frenzy.  He pushed his way through the boggle of people and headed towards his buddy, Rufus’s desk.

“I can’t fucking believe this!”  He announced as he threw the paper down on Rufus’s desk.  The headline reading in bold lettering at the tip top of the very front page, **‘CASTIEL CAELUM IS DUE TO BE SENT TO INMANIS PENITINTERY’**  

Rufus who had just been enjoying his usual morning cup of coffee blanched at the headline.

“That crazy sonofa’ bitch is being sent here?”  Dean nodded in excitement,

“The Castiel, fucking coo-coo cachoo Castiel Caelum, is being put under our watch!”  Dean’s body was buzzing with adrenaline at the news.  “That son of a bitch gets life in OUR prison Rufus, under OUR care!  You know how much fucking fun this is going to be?”  Dean laughed loudly but the but the bitter hostility in his eyes was evident.  Rufus rolled his eyes blandly at the young prison guard, and picked up the paper to scan over the rest of the story.

“Says he’s set to receive the death penalty, but is being put here for the meantime.”  Dean nodded. He had already read over the article multiple times, he could probably recite the whole thing back to him without a second thought.

“If you’re asking me, I think that’s letting him down way to easy.”  Dean said as he pulled up a chair beside Rufus and plopped down, leaning back and putting his feet up on the desk.  “I might actually have a few words with the sick fucker myself when he gets here.”  Rufus scowled at Dean pushing his feet off his desk and throwing the paper back at him.

“You won’t lay a hand on the man unless he gives you reason.  I don’t care how far off his rocker the fool is, you aren’t losing your job for not following protocol.”  Dean glared back at Rufus and rolled his eyes.

“Rufus, the dude has killed _kids_.  Innocent kids, man!”  Dean was getting heated just thinking about it.  “He brutally murdered dozens of innocents in cold blood, yet he gets to die by some little bitch shot.  It’s fucking bullshit.”

Everyone who knew Dean Winchester was well aware of the fact that he had a soft spot for children, regardless of the fact that he didn’t have any himself, still it was the principal of the thing.  What could those kids have possibly done to that sick bastard that made him decide to take their lives?  Hell, they had barely even had been able to live their lives to begin with.  They were only just getting started and now they would never even get the chance.  It made Dean want to single handedly find every pedophile, kidnapper, child molester out there and dismember them…He would do it slowly too.  Just to give them time to reflect on how fucked up they are in the head.

His face must have clearly shown his rage because the next thing he knew Rufus was patting him roughly on the shoulder,

“You calm yourself down, boy before you hurt yourself.  Hell, it’s more likely that the cons will kill him before the state does, anyways.  You know how it goes.”

Dean deflated a little bit at Rufus’s words.  The old man had a point.  Even though there were some more than questionable characters (as there obviously is bound to be a few in a maximum security prison) a lot of them don’t take kindly to men who kill kids, considering a majority of the convicts have children themselves.

Dean sighed pushing himself up from the chair, and rubbing a hand over his face, “Whatever.”  He muttered, “When are they bringing him in?”  A beat.  “Better yet, how are they bringing him in?”

Dean was genuinely curious on how the guy was getting here.  He highly doubted they were going to just place him on the ole’ diesel bus with a bunch of other new cons.  No, this guy was on a different level entirely.  Dean would go as far as to bet money that the guy would get escorted by a SWAT team-Hannibal Lector style.

Rufus shrugged and took a sip from his coffee mug, “I’d say considering who we’re dealing with, they’ll probably do the whole shebang.  SWAT’s some military escorts, things of the like.”  Pause.  “But then again, there’s nothing supernatural about the man.  It’s already confirmed that he’s not a demon or any other type of creepy-crawler so maybe they won’t need all that hooplah.”

Dean frowned, “What the hell’s with all the theatrics?  He’s just a man right? Coo-coo for coco puffs, sure.  But he’s just a guy, all the same. Why all the fire-power?”

“Well, it’s more for his protection than it is for ours.”  Rufus informed matter-of-factly.  “A lot of people have been dying to get their hands on him.  He’s torn a lot of families apart that man.  There’s bound to be a couple of civilians with some hard feelings, if you know what I’m saying.”

Dean considered this and nodded.  He knew for a fact that if any one of his family members had fallen victim to Castiel Caelum, he would have stopped at nothing to make sure the man had died a slow and painful death.

 _Whoa, tone it down a notch with the violent thoughts there Dean-o._   He thought to himself, cringing slightly as he realized his conscious kind of sounded like Gabriel-one of the annoying prisoners who was convicted a year ago for reasons Dean has yet to find out.

_Fuck, I’m going to find myself locked up here if I keep this up._

He glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed.  He had five minutes until his shift started.  He subconsciously slid his hand down his uniform checking to see that his baton and his walkie-talkie was clipped securely into his holster before pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on.

He patted Rufus on the shoulder once, “Well, I’ll see you around, old man.”

“Watch who you’re callin’ old man, boy.  I may have a few years behind my belt but I’ll still whoop your scrawny ass.”  Dean laughed and then felt a tad offended.  He was not, scrawny.  He glared at Rufus, who was now snickering to himself before turning around and heading towards Singers desk.

The grumpy old man was currently pacing back and forth, leafing through a stack of papers in his hand and mumbling profanities to himself. Dean chuckled, and knocked twice on the desk to inform the older man of his presence,

“You need anything, boss.  I’m about to head down to the cells.”  Singer glanced up at Dean and stopped pacing,

“Actually, I do.”  He snapped the file in his hand shut and pushed it roughly into Dean’s chest.  Dean caught it just barely before all the papers flew out everywhere and stared at his boss confused.  “SWAT have Caelum at the front gate, ready to be signed in.  You,” he pointed a finger giving Dean a stern look.  “Are escorting him to the fish-tank.”

Dean’s eyes nearly popped out of his head,

“Wait, Caelum’s here?”  He asked dumbfounded.  

“That’s what I said, idjit.”  Dean glanced down at the file and then back up at Singer, mouth agape.  Then quickly gathered his bearings, remembering that this was his job and hoping that his boss didn’t mistake his surprise for fear.  He cleared his throat,

“Uh, yeah, okay I can do that.”  Bobby nodded,

“Good.  Milligan is already on his way down there now.  Catch up with him and give that file to Tessa.  We need to get all his paperwork together as soon as possible.  Considering the er…” pause. “Circumstances, we would like to get him into his cell as soon as possible so as to avoid any trouble.”

Dean raised a brow, “What Kind of trouble?”

Bobby just sighed and shook his head, “Who knows with this one.  Better safe than sorry.”  Dean nodded his head in agreement once before tucking the file into his side.

“Alright, I’ll go get him.  See what all the fuss is about.”  He winked cockily at Bobby who in turn, rolled his eyes and walked away.

Dean felt a nervous type of anticipation in his stomach as he made his way through the long corridor leading to the outside.  This was probably one of the most notorious killers of his time, and Dean was going to be the one leading him away from a life of freedom to one of imprisonment.  He smirked to himself at the thought as he scanned his ID at the front door and pushed through.

Dean wasn’t one to break protocol, and he wasn’t planning on it either.  But he knew how to make the prisoners lives more miserable than they already were if the situation called for it.  He wasn’t even sure why he thought that the man was getting off easy with his sentence.  He was planning on making the guys life a living hell while he was here.

As far as Dean was concerned, Castiel Caelum was nothing new.

Maybe he was a bigger level of fucked up than the other convicts.  But he was still the same brand of cockroach that Dean Winchester has been squashing since he began working here 9 years ago.  An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground, murdering piece of shit.  The only difference between him and the others, was in numbers and the fact that he was more cunning than one would dare give someone of his type credit for.

But still, Caelum was nothing but a man.

He whistled as he made his way to the gate and waved at his friend, Adam Milligan who was already waiting for him.

“You ready for this?”  Milligan asked, smirking slightly as he signaled for the guards at the gates to open them.  Dean smirked and raised a brow,

“You kidding?  This guy’s nothing.”  Adam chuckled lightly, but Dean could see that he was nervous.

Adam was one of the newer guards at Inmanis Penitentiary, so he still got a little shaky when he would be assigned to escort what they would call a, ‘big-fish’ into the prison.

Dean patted him on the back reassuringly and stepped back as the gates slowly opened.  Five state police cars slowly made their way through the gates.  One of them, containing the man of the hour, Dean assumed the middle one.

They all stopped in front of the two guards who shared a look at the fancy entrance.

“You would think we were dealing with Brittany fucking Spears.”  Dean muttered to himself as two police officers stepped out of the middle car.  One said something into the monitor on his vest before looking over and nodding at the guards.  Dean acknowledged him and made his way over,

“So, where is he?”  He asked, ready to get the show on the road.

“The truck carrying Caelum went a separate way to avoid any unwanted confrontation, they should be pulling up any minute now.”  The officer responded.  Dean scrunched his brow together,

“Was that necessary?”  He asked skeptically.  The police officer who looked about done with life just shrugged,

“Probably not.  Just trying to make a clean transfer, ya’ know?”  Dean nodded, in understanding.  And turned to face the still open gate, just in time to see a giant armored rescue vehicle pulling up behind the police cars, followed by-you guessed it-even more police cars.

Dean had to admit, he almost fainted at the sight of the rescue vehicle.  It was a monster, and that’s putting it lightly.  Usually this type of vehicle was used when the police are dealing with someone who has a firearm of some sort, so they didn’t pass through here often.  But when they did, Dean had to stop himself from squealing like a little girl at a Justin Bieber concert.

He shook his head roughly.  Now is not the time to have romantic thoughts about the police vehicle.  He would never cheat on his baby anyways, no matter how tempting and bad ass the rescue truck was.

Dean glanced back at Adam who was also mooning over the beautiful piece of machinery as well and nodded.  They made their way around the police cars and to the back of the monster truck.  The gates slowly closed as the last cop car came through and then, it was show time.

Dean and Adam stood back as the police officers unlocked the metal doors and ripped them open.  There were two SWAT guys in full uniform holding rifles in the back of the truck who jumped out and immediately turned back to the opening and pointed their guns.  The police officer on the side pulled down the ramp from the back of the truck and the two SWAT members parted a path in the middle, giving Dean and Adam room to step up.

Dean was the first to step in, Adam right behind him.  The inside of the truck was dark, not counting the small overhead light up above and Dean had to wait a few seconds for his eyes to adjust.

And there he was, the man of the hour, sitting on the metal bench, legs shackled together.  His hands were resting in his lap, also in chains.  He was wearing a bright orange jump suit, as is the usual for convicts being transferred.  Around his face was a mask type thing, which, once again, eerily reminded Dean of Hannibal.  The guys’ hair was a shaggy mess, dark and unruly on top of his head.  And peering out from underneath his bangs, were two bright blue orbs that couldn’t be anything else but his eyes.

Dean stared at him, and he stared back.  A chill went up Dean’s spine as he realized that the man seemed to not even be blinking.  He heard Adam clear his throat and Dean flinched.  Castiel’s eyes slid over to stare at Adam for a few seconds and then back to Dean.  They weren’t menacing in the least.  Not even remotely intimidating.  They were…open.   Almost innocent.  Dean felt his stomach roll in disgust as he remembered all of the things that the man before them was capable of.

If Dean Winchester had anything to say about it.  Someone as sick and evil as the guy in front of them shouldn’t be able to have those kind of eyes.

He looked over at Adam and nodded, and on queue they both stepped forward and grabbed the man roughly by his arms and hoisted him to his feet.  They led him out of the truck and down the ramp, his chains clinking together noisely.  A police officer stepped forward and swiftly brought out a key reaching for the Hannibal mask around the guys face.

“What are you doing?”  Dean asked startled.  He figured if the man had to wear a muzzle in the first place then maybe he should just keep it on…For like, ever.

The police officer unhooked the back of the mask that was clipped tightly shut at the nape of Caelum’s neck, “We just put this on as precaution for the ride over here.”  He stated as he pulled the mask completely off, “Can never be too careful.”  Dean nodded and looked over at the criminals face and was actually shocked at how attractive the guy was.

He had stubble covering his jaw, like he hadn’t shaved in a few days.  High cheek bones and plush lips.  Dean couldn’t stop himself from snickering,

He glanced over at Adam who still had a firm grip on the cons other arm,

“This one’s pretty Milligan.  I think the other prisoners are gonna have a fun time with him, huh?”  Adam snorted and nodded his head in agreement, while the other officers chuckled as well.  Castiel, however didn’t seemed phased.  Instead he was staring passed the police officers and towards the sky.

Dean followed the man’s gaze and saw that he was staring at a blue jay that had found spot on the top of the gate.  Dean looked over at Adam and raised a brow, and Adam shrugged.  The guy just stared at it.  The most serene look covering his face.  It’s safe to say this threw Dean off a little because he was used to the new fish usually looking like they were about to shit themselves.  Especially when he just so blatantly pointed out the possibility of rape.

He shook his head and roughly tugged the man’s arm, making him stumble slightly,

“Come on Milligan, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”  Adam nodded and they both bid the officers farewell and started dragging the new con along with them towards the prison.

Caelum didn’t say anything, he turned his head as the guards led him away and kept his eyes on the bird.  Dean, for some reason felt annoyed at this and roughly jolted the guy by his arm,

“Eyes forward.”  He growled.  One of the policeman slammed their car doors, startling the bird to fly away.  Caelum turned his head back meeting Dean’s eyes again, before looking forward, like he was told.

“Are we taking him to the fish tank?”  Adam asked.   Dean nodded.

The fish tank was what they called the unit where all new prisoners are admitted while they are getting their paperwork processed.  It’s just a small cell like any of set up like any of the other cells, but instead of bars, it’s surrounded by plexi-glass.  It has a bed, and a toilet and you get your meals delivered to you.  Usually the prisoners don’t stay there any longer than a week, until they get their new cell number.

“Then it’s out of the fish tank and into the sharks.”  He smirked glancing over at Caelum who kept his eyes forward, face expressionless.  “By sharks I mean the other prisoners who are more than likely going to kill you…More or less.”  He was hoping to get some kind of rise out of the guy, but alas, the dude had the same serene expression on his face that he did when he was staring at the blue jay.  Dean rolled his eyes.

When they finally made it to the front door, Adam scanned his ID and they both pushed through, Caelum pretty much being manhandled along the way.  As the doors shut behind them Dean turned to face Caelum.

“Okay buddy,”  he said, “What’s going to happen now, is you’re going to get stripped and these lovely people over here are going to inspect you very thoroughly to make sure you’re not smuggling anything.  Then, you are going to get a shower, where you’ll be disinfected and yada, yada.  Got that?”  Castiel blinked once and Dean took that as a yes.  “Good.  Do you have any possessions on you books, papers, glasses?”

He knew that the guy didn’t have anything on him, obviously, but it was procedure to ask.  But to his surprise, Caelum reached down into the pocket of his orange scrubs with some difficulty due to the chains and pulled out a necklace.

Dean snorted and Adam raised a brow.

“Right, pretty ladies need their accessories.”  Dean remarked snatching the necklace from Castiel’s chained hand.  A flash of worry suddenly crossed the cons eyes which was the most emotion that the guards have seen from the man so far.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, we’re going to box it up and catalogue it and then place it in our storage unit.  You can’t keep it considering you could attempt to strangle someone with it which…”  Dean cast a sideways look at him, “In your case wouldn’t surprise me.”  The worry on the convicts face was still there, he seemed to not even be listening to Dean.  Instead, his eyes were trained on the necklace in the guard’s hand, as if Dean was going to smash it right in front of him.

Dean took a second to glance down at the piece of jewelry he was holding.

 

It was a locket, in the shape of a small sphere, the size of a bouncy ball.  It was a dirty bronze-ish color, and was attached a long thin chain.  Around the small sphere, there was an inscription that went all around it.  Dean held it up to the light to get a better look at the small words.  It wasn’t in any language he recognized.  In fact, it just looked like a bunch of odd shapes and symbols.

Dean hummed under his breath and rolled it around in his hand, enjoying the look of terror on the convicts face as he did so.  Dean chuckled and shoved it in the pocket of his uniform, making a note to himself to drop it off at the front desk when his shift ended.

“Alright,” He said clapping his hands together, signaling to two the doctors who were waiting patiently, “He’s ready.”  They nodded and Dean and Adam stepped back to give the doctors room to work.

“Alright Handsome, my name is Meg and this is Dr. Lee,” The female doctor said, gesturing to the male doctor next to her who was holding a clip-board.  She reached into her pocket and held up a key, “We are going to unchain you, it would be best if you cooperate with everything we do or we will be forced to sick these two goons on you.”  She said nodding her head towards Dean and Adam,

“Hey!”  They both said simultaneously.

“Do you understand?”  She asked sternly but politely.  Castiel glanced over at the two guards and then back to Meg, nodding once.

“Good.”  She said with a small smirk.  Dean couldn’t say that he was Meg’s biggest fan, but she had a certain way about her that made everyone feel at ease, regardless the situation.

 She gently turned Castiel around so she could bend down and unlocked the shackles at his feet, then the ones around his hands.  She handed the chains to Dean and Adam and then turned back to Castiel.

“Alright, I’m going to need you to strip off all your clothes, please.”  Castiel glanced over at Dean and Adam who stood their ground, not looking uncomfortable, just thoughtful.

“I know, you must feel a little weird getting butt naked in front of an audience, but I promise we are all professionals and they actually have to be here for your protection as well as ours.”  Meg explained apologetically and slightly amused.  

Castiel merely nodded before pulling his orange shirt up over his head and throwing it down at his feet.  The small office was quiet as they all stared at his body.  Meg’s eyes widened slightly as she took him in and Dean let out a low whistle.

“Looks like someone already had their way with you.”  Meg shot him a warning look and Dean put his hands up in mock surrender.

Over Castiel’s pale torso were dark splotches of bruises.  Ugly purple and black spots nearly covering his entire chest and stomach, even his back.

Meg stepped closer crouching down to get a better look, “Where did these come from?”  She questioned, her brow scrunched together.  Castiel gave a small shrug, his face impassive.  Meg cocked an eyebrow at him but said no more.

“Right, sure.  Pants too, sweetheart.”  He pulled his pants down around his ankles and kicked them away, before doing the same to his dark blue boxers until he was standing there completely nude.

Dean chuckled in amusement as Adam tried to act casual by examining his nails, but totally failing due to the red at the tips of his ears.

“You get used to it.”  Dean consoled as Meg turned Castiel around again to examine the back of him.  “Trust me, I’ve seen more dick than should be possible in the past 9 years.”  Adam shot him a look,

“Are you sure that’s not just because you’re gay?”  He asked with an amused smirk.  He heard Meg snort and Dr. Lee even gave the two boys an amused look over his clipboard.  Dean just scowled.

“That-that has nothing to do with it!”  He defended himself crossing his arms over his chest and trying to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.  Adam just laughed harder,

“That has a little to do with it, I think.”  Dean just elbowed him in the ribs causing the younger guard to yelp before turning back to where Castiel was now being examined.

Okay, Dean had to admit the guy was pretty attractive.  He had a nice body-minus all the scary looking bruises-and was actually pretty hung...

Whoa.

No, bad thought.  Dean coughed uncomfortably at the last thought because that was totally not a good mindset to be in at the moment.  Anyways, it wasn’t like he would ever in a million years get turned on by this sick bastard, so it didn’t really matter.

Adam eyed him strangely and snorted knowingly and Dean shot him a death glare.  His inner conflict was interrupted by Meg clapping her hands together cheerfully,

“Alrighty, he’s clean.  Now we’re going to disinfect you, just like a full body hand sanitizer, it doesn’t hurt or anything.”  Castiel nodded again and stood straight.  Once again meeting Dean’s eyes.  Dean cleared his throat looking away.  Somehow feeling more awkward than even Adam was now.

Meg brought over the small spray bottle filled with a clear liquid, putting a mask over her face then handed one to Castiel,

“Put this on please.”  Castiel nodded, taking the mask and adjusting it on his face.

“Now, this might be a little cold, just a warning.”  She said gently squeezing down on the lever in the front, causing a cloud of mist to spray over Caelum’s leg.  He didn’t flinch though.  Just stared down at the Doctor curiously as she finished disinfecting his left leg before moving to the other.

Dean wondered what was up with the dude-besides the obvious.  He didn’t think he had ever seen a new fish act as calm and collected as Caelum was being right now.  Hell, the man hadn’t even said one word, which was really weird.  Usually new convicts had a few things to say, especially when they saw Meg (at that point Dean would step in and give them his famous ‘watch-your-fucking-tongue-before-I-rip-it-off’ look)

He had heard on the news and read in papers that Caelum was incredibly clever, that being the reason for him being nearly impossible to pursue.  One day he would be all over the news, the next he just took himself off the grid.

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Castiel was staring at him again, head cocked to the side, blue eyes sparkling slightly over his mask.  Dean felt that chill again, creeping up his spine and making the hair on his neck stand on end.  

_Jesus Christ, does the guy ever fucking blink?_

That curious look in the convicts face was getting to be a little too much for Dean to handle.  “Face forward!”  he snarled causing everyone in the room except Castiel to jump.  Meg had nearly dropped the disinfectant and shot a glare Dean’s way, pulling off her mask so she could speak clearly,

“Could you save the whole ‘alpha-male’ thing for the cons who are actually causing problems, Dean-o?”  She asked sternly.  Dean’s mouth dropped open in disbelief,

“Are you seriously sticking up for this guy?”  he asked dumbfounded.  She just raised her brow at him,

“If he is not causing any uproar, then you do not raise your voice, and you do not belittle anyone!  Not in my fucking office, got it?”  Annoyance was evident in her voice, and Adam and Dr. Lee were just standing awkwardly, watching the confrontation.

Dean felt anger and irritation curling in his gut.  Meg was always defending the cons, and it was actually starting to get on his last nerve.

“Oh, are you kidding me?  Give it a rest with the whole,‘sadistic-murderer-rapist-have-feelings-too’ routine, it’s getting fucking old.  This guy has killed innocent people, he doesn’t get my fucking sympathy!”

Meg was standing now, facing towards Dean, face contorted with fury.  She opened her mouth to fire back a retort when she was interrupted by a loud thump.  Everyone in the room jumped and snapped their heads over to see Castiel on the ground, balled up in fetal position, his hands covering his ears, eyes squeezed shut, and rocking back and forth.  He was mumbling something over and over again, but Dean couldn’t make out what it was.

Meg cursed and was at his side immediately, crouching down beside him. The other doctor quickly placed down his clip board and ran to his side as well.  Dean and Adam just stood there in shock, glancing at each other in confusion.

“Sir, what’s the matter?  What can we do?  What are you feeling?”  Dr. Lee fired off questions, trying to pull the rocking man out of his catatonic state.  Meg gently pried his hands away from his ears, whispering kind words to him so as to calm him down.

 

“I don’t like conflict.”  He kept muttering, “I don’t like conflict, I don’t like conflict.”

Dean scratched the back of his head, now feeling a tad awkward, “Uh, do you want me to call someone?”  Meg shot him a fierce look, Castiel flinched at his voice and Dean raised a brow.

“I think you’ve done enough, Dean.”  She said matter-of-factly.

Dean raised his hands in surrender and stepped back to lean on the wall, watching as the doctors tried to console the panicking man.  Adam looked at him,

“What the hell?”  he whispered, to which Dean just shrugged.

“Guy is fucking nuts.”  He muttered back, voice lacking remorse.

Suddenly, as if a switch flipped in the convicts head, he stopped rocking.  He lifted his head up out of where it was tucked in his knees, and blinked.  Meg and Dr.Milligan looked at each other and then back to Castiel.

“Mr.Caelum, are you alright?  Do you need anything specific?  Water, crackers…?”  Castiel just blinked again, his face suddenly taking on that of great lucidity.  He shook his head once, then without saying a word, got to his feet.

Meg stood up with him, looking like she had just experienced some sort of whip-lash from the cons sudden mood change.  One minute content, the next a weeping mess on the floor, then within a blink of an eye, totally calm, as if nothing had happened.  Weird.

“Um, are you sure you’re okay?”  She asked, brow furrowed in concern.  Castiel just nodded once.  He wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes anymore and fuck no if Dean was feeling guilty for anything to do with this fucking nutcase.

Meg and Dr. Lee shared a look before she picked up her mask and finished disinfecting the con without anymore interruptions from Dean and random panic attacks from Castiel. After washing off all the excess disinfectant, they gave Castiel his new scrubs to change into.

The uniform at this prison was all white scrubs, making the convicts look more like mental patients than hard-core criminals.  Even though, after Castiel’s little episode a little earlier, Dean figured the white scrubs actually kinda’ fit.  

When they were done giving him all the necessary shots, Meg and Dr. Lee bid them farewell.  Meg making sure to shoot one more stern glance Dean’s way.

Adam and Dean walked on either side of Castiel, who was still as quiet as ever and also still wearing that incredibly serene expression on his face.  It was actually starting to creep Dean out a little bit.  The guy looked so innocent.  He looked like a freaking librarian for christs sake.  Not like someone who had slaughtered thousands of innocent civilians.

The three men continued making their way down the long corridor, occasionally stopping so Dean could scan his ID.  When they finally made it to the processing unit Adam headed towards Tessa’s desk to give her Caelum's file, leaving Dean with Castiel.

“Okay,”  Dean said clapping his hands together and moving to stand in Castiel’s line of sight.  “What’s going to happen now, is I’m going to show you to where you will be staying for probably the next week or so while we’re getting all your paperwork processed.  Got that?”  

Castiel hesitated, staring at Dean in that non-blinking way of his, before nodding.  Dean grunted and gestured for Castiel to follow him.

As they were walking through the unit, Dean snuck a look at Castiel.  He was keeping pace with Dean fairly well, considering Dean was walking in long strides and the dude was actually a couple inches shorter than him.  He was staring straight ahead, but he didn’t even seem to be watching where he was going, he was seriously off somewhere in la-la land, not seeming aware of his surroundings.

“You don’t talk much, do you, Caelum?”  Dean asked blandly, not really interested in what the guy had to say but curious to see if the convict would actually say anything at all.  Instead Castiel just looked over at Dean, face expressionless and cocked his head.  Dean waited a minute for any sort of response and when he didn’t get one, he just snorted and shook his head, facing back forward.

“Right, forgot.  Homicidal maniacs are shy.  My bad.”  Again no response.  Not that Dean was expecting one.  He couldn’t wait to get this guy off his hands, he was starting to give him the heebs.  

“Alright,”  Dean said coming to a halt and getting out his ID card.  “This, is called the fishtank.”  he explained matter of factly as the iron door to the small see-through cell opened.  He opened it gesturing for Caelum to step through first before stepping in behind him.  “We call it the fish tank, because it’s where we put all the new fish.”  He was speaking slowly, like he was talking to a toddler.  

Castiel looked around the small room, eyes stopping at the bed, then to the toilet, then the sink, as if each object held the answers to the universe.  

“Your food’ll be brought to you while you’re in here, and a guard will come by to take you to the shower down the hall each morning, got it?”  he asked looking expectantly at Cas who was now staring out the small window towards the outside.  Dean waited for the man to nod his understanding but it never came.  Dean clenched his jaw in aggravation and breathed out slowly,

“Hey Buddy, I asked you a question!”  He barked out.  Castiel continued staring out the window, hands relaxed at his sides. Then, he spoke.  In a deep gravelly voice that caught Dean off guard almost as much as the fact that the guy was actually talking.

 **  
**“When this monster entered my brain, I will never know, but it is here to stay.”  The con said, lifting his hand to trace his finger along the window pane.  “how does one cure himself?  I can’t stop it, the monster goes on and it hurts me as well as society.  Maybe you can stop him-”  He turned to Dean, eyes suddenly serious, filled with an emotion that could only be described as pure sorrow. “I can’t.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would probably post a chapter every week, but I figured since it's the Finale tonight (holy fucking hell I am so excited-and scared-but excited!!!) That I would just go ahead and put this up :) 
> 
> Thanks for the feedback, I totally appreciate it! It makes me feel all giddy and such. So, yeah I hope you like this chapter and let me know what you think :D
> 
> Enjoy!!

 

_“I will, in all probability, be convicted._

_However, I will not go away a monster- but as a tragedy.”_

_-Joel Rifkin_

Dean got home that evening after his shift ended, feeling exhausted and mildly confused.  He locked the door behind him, immediately unhooking his holster from around his waist and laying it on the counter, then unbuttoned his uniform shirt before balling it up and throwing it in the laundry basket across the room.  He tugged off his boots and lined them up under the coffee table before sighing and standing up to go to the fridge.  It was all part of a routine for him.  His place wasn’t extraordinarily clean, but everything had it’s place and that’s the way Dean liked it.

He pulled out a beer and opened it on the counter with his palm, not bothering to pick up the cap that had fallen somewhere on the floor.   He took a sip before walking back over to the couch and flipping on the TV.  

It seemed as if on every channel there was some reporter going on about the infamous Castiel Caelum.  About how ruthless and cunning he was.  How dangerous he was. Dean snorted and took another sip of his beer.  If only those reporters had seen what he’d seen today, they might change their tune.  He was going to change the channel again when his phone vibrated on the coffee table.  He picked it up glancing at the number before answering,

“Bitch!”  he greeted his brother happily as he placed the phone to his ear.  He heard Sam sigh but knew he was smirking on the other end.

“I heard you got a celebrity at the prison now.”  Sam said knowingly.  Dean chuckled standing up to pace,

“Dude, the guy is totally a couple singles short of a bad Minaj album.”  Pause.

“What kind of euphemism was that?”  

Dean rolled his eyes, “Shut up, bitch.  The guy is a wacko.  I also thought he was mute,but then, when he actually does talk, you want to know what he says?”  Dean asked gesturing wildly to himself as he spoke,

“What?”  Sam asked curiously.

“He quoted fucking Dennis Radar!  Like, what the fuck?”  Dean snorted to himself in disbelief.  “A serial killer quoting another serial killer.”  He shook his head. “ Weird shit, man.”  

“Well, Dean what did you expect?  For him to be completely sane?”  Dean shrugged even though Sam obviously couldn’t see it.

“But anyways, CNN already put together a documentary on  him.  I just watched the whole thing, the guy is actually pretty interesting.”  Sam continued, “Apparently he’s like, super intelligent, graduated from Harvard by the name Jimmy Novak.”  Dean’s eyebrows shot up at that.

“Jimmy Novak?”  

“Yeah, apparently he changed his name when he was 25 to Castiel Caelum.  He was a pretty lonely guy.  Had no friends, no family, nothing.”

Dean chuckled, “Yeah, maybe ‘cause he killed ‘em all.”  Sam sighed.  

“You’re an idiot.” Dean just snickered.  “But did he say anything else?  Try to eat his own flesh?  Anything?”  Dean scowled at that.

“What kind of criminals have you been hanging out with?”  He asked incredulous

Sam chuckled, “You’d be surprised.”  

Sam graduated from Stanford as a lawyer.  He usually dealt with people who committed fraud or were late on taxes, but occasionally would take on a case involving murder or acts of violence if he was feeling lucky.

“He started having a freakin’ panic attack when I yelled at him.  Like, totally not badass.”  Sam was a bit taken aback at that,

“Panic attack?  Really?  Huh.”  Dean grunted,

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me.”  he sighed before picking his bottle back up and taking a chug, “Anyways, enough with the nutso’ talk, how’s Jess?”  

“She’s...uh-”  Sam’s voice dropped to a whisper. “ _pregnant-er_ …”  

“Samuel Winchester, I know you did not just call me fat!”  Dean heard Jessica yell in the background.  He chuckled,

“Looks like you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Shut up, jerk.”  Dean snickered to himself.  

“So, when are you gonna’, I don’t know... Settle down?”  Sam asked all  too casually.  Dean’s mood immediately dropped.

“Sammy, give it a rest.”  he said sternly, tossing his empty bottle into the trash before reaching into the fridge to grab a new one.

Sam sighed, “Dean, you’re going to get tired of one night stands eventually.”

“Actually, no I won’t.  That’s kinda’ the point of one night stands, Sammy.”  Dean explained matter-of-factly.  “You don’t get tired of them, because-wait for it-” Dean knew Sam was rolling his eyes at this point, “Because, they’re  ONE.  NIGHT.  STANDS.”  Sam sighed again.

“Whatever.  Anyways, I’ve got to go, Jess has dinner ready.”  

“Right, I’ll call you tomorrow, bitch.”  

Sam chuckled, “Fine, Jerk.  Oh, and you should check out that documentary.  It is pretty interesting stuff.”

Dean snorted, “Yeah, right.  Later, Sammy.”  

“Bye, Dean.”Dean ended the call, throwing his phone to the other end of the couch and just stared at it.  

It’s weird to think that emptiness can actually smother you.  But that’s what Dean felt was happening as he sat in his empty apartment, drinking his third- nearly empty- beer before heading off to his hopelessly empty bed in a town filled with even emptier people.

He tossed and turned that night in his own emptiness, before he finally sighed and peeled off his covers.  He sat on the edge of his bed for a minute, running his hand over his face before getting up, grabbing his laptop from his desk and settling back down on his bed.  He flipped the computer open and typed youtube into the search browser.   

His fingers hovered over the keys debatingly, before muttering, “Fuck it.” and typed in ‘Castiel Caelum Documentary’.  He hesitated, feeling kind of creepy, but then shrugged and pressed enter.  He skimmed over the results before deciding on the very top link.  The documentary was an hour long.  He sat back, briefly wondering if he should grab some popcorn or maybe another beer but then looked at the time, 3:33, and decided against either.

He pressed play and immediately a mans deep voice started speaking, _“Castiel Caelum.  The man, the enigma...the murderer….”_  Dean groaned at the theatrics but continued watching none the less.  

By the end of the hour, Dean knew more about Caelum than he would have cared to know about any of his convicts.  

He just sat up in bed, staring into the empty space in front of him.  He stayed like that for the next hour and a half, filled with a series of conflicted thoughts and emotions.  Sam wasn’t lying when he said the man didn’t have any family.  But, he used to.  Apparently, Caelum used to have a wife and little girl- Amelia and Claire Novak -that disappeared a few years back.  

A year before he went on his murdering spree.  Weird. Dean shivered at the thought that maybe Caelum had something to do with their disappearance.  

The documentary also mentioned that Caelum used to work as a tax accountant, or ‘Jimmy Novak’ used to work as a tax accountant considering he quit his job right before changing his name.  His boss claimed that he just stopped coming in, so everyone had assumed that he had fallen ill, or that he and his family had just decided to move.

It talked about how Caelum, after a lengthy psychological evaluation, was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, multiple personality disorder, and severe psychosis. He also showed symptoms of  severe anxiety, which explained his little episode the day before.  

Dean was immediately pulled out of his thoughts by the annoying blare of his alarm.  He sighed, before switching it off, standing up and stretching, deciding to push all thoughts of Caelum out of his mind.

“Another 12 hour day with no sleep, way to go Winchester.”  He mumbled to himself as he made his way to the bathroom to get ready for work.  He had a feeling that it was going to be a long day.

***  

Dean walked into the staff room and Bobby immediately called out to him.

“Winchester, you’re stationed in the fish tank today.”  Dean blanched.

“Wha-what, I never get stationed in the fish tank!”  He replied stunned.  Bobby just shot him a stern look,

“Well, today is a new day ya’ idjit, now get your ass down there.”  Dean opened his mouth to argue again but one look at Bobby’s stern glare and he decided against it.

He grumbled to himself as he walked over to the coffee pot and filled up a Styrofoam cup to the rim with black bitter liquid.  Rufus and a couple of the other guards gave him sympathetic looks to which he replied by giving them the finger.

Nobody liked being put on fish tank duty.  You had to deal with all the new criminals complaining and whining about their sentence.  Some, even cried…Actually-a majority of them cried.  But of course if asked about it later, they would simply scoff indignantly and deny it.

But that wasn’t particularly the reason Dean was dreading his shift today.  The main reason was because he was not looking forward to facing Caelum.  Again, he wasn’t scared of the guy, not even close.  He just felt kind of uncomfortable with the fact that he had literally watched an hour long documentary on the dudes life the night before and if that’s not a tad bit stalker-ish, he doesn’t know what is.

He grumbled to himself some more, tapping his fingers on the counter as he sipped at his coffee, before sighing resignedly.

“Guess I can’t put this off any longer.”  He muttered as he refilled his cup and turned on his heel, checking to make sure he had his baton and walkie-talkie firmly in place and started making his way through the prison.

When he finally made it to the processing unit, he had already drank all of his coffee and now the caffeine was making him more fidgety than usual.  He threw his empty cup in a trash can on the way to the cells and rubbed a hand down his face tiredly.  

As he was walking down the hall, he almost ran face first into Uriel.  Uriel is on night shift and apparently he was just clocking out.  

“Ah, there you are, Winchester.”  He greeted coming to a halt.  Dean groaned inwardly.  He didn’t like Uriel, he had decided that when he had shared the night shift with him a few years back.  The guy was bossy, arrogant, and just a complete douche bag.  Also, Dean was pretty sure the guy smuggles things in for the Cons.  He never really brought it up to anyone though, he doesn’t really care..as long as it’s not a fucking sword or something.

“Yeah, here I am.”  He muttered.  

“You know who’s in there right?”  he asked in his deep voice that sort of reminded Dean of thunder.  Dean held back his eye-roll, already knowing where this was going.

“Who?”  He asked taking the bait.  

“Castiel Caelum.  The man is totally wacko.  Didn’t sleep at all last night, just stared at the god-damned window.”  Pause.  “I gave the crazy a parting gift though.”  Uriel grinned, his eyes shining mischievously.  “Until tonight.”  With that, Uriel turned on his heel and left Dean staring after him, confused.  

Parting gift?  Dean shrugged and shook his head, feeling irritated already, and it was only 6:30 in the morning.  

He wasn’t sure what Uriel meant when he said he left Caelum a ‘parting gift’, but he definitely figured it out when he got to the cons cell.  

Castiel was sitting on the ground, legs pulled up to his chest, back pressed against his bed.  He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t shaking, it didn’t even look like he was breathing.  Dean frowned, and pulled out his ID to open the cell door.  

Castiel flinched when he stepped in, but other than that, didn’t acknowledge Dean at all.  

“Uh, what the hell are you doing?”  Dean asked.  “Is there a problem?”  Castiel’s eyes looked up over his arms to meet Dean’s, staring at him for a moment, before giving a slight shake of his head.  And tucked his face back into the nook of his arms.

Dean sighed exasperatedly.  It didn’t take a fucking scientist to know that that was a lie.

“Alright, stand up.”   Caelum didn’t move.  Dean took a step forward, “I said, Stand.  Up.”  He repeated with more force.  Caelum didn’t move for a moment, and Dean was considering just grabbing the man and pulling him up himself, but he couldn’t lay a hand on a prisoner without probable cause.  Before Dean open his mouth, becoming incredibly impatient, Castiel stood up.

It took him a while, but he got there.  He seemed to have to put his hand on the wall to hold himself up, and he held his head down, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes again.  Dean narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, studying the con carefully.

“What is up with you?”  He asked, not really expecting an answer.  Turns out, he didn’t need Castiel to tell him after all.  He figured it out himself when a drop of blood fell from Castiel’s concealed face onto the cell floor. Dean immediately stepped forward and lifted the cons face forcefully with his hand.  

 _“Holy fu…”_  Castiel’s eyes were wide and startled.  Blood was dripping from his nose and a giant gash in his forehead.  It looked like someone hit him across the face with a baseball bat.

Or a baton.  

“Fucking, Uriel.”  He muttered letting go of Castiel’s face and reaching for his walkie talkie.  The guy was probably concussed.  Castiel saw what Dean was reaching for and shook his head.

“Please, don’t.”  He whispered.  Dean looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, I kinda’ have to.  You need medical attention, you could have a concussion.”    Castiel shook his head again.

“I don’t, I’m fine.”  

Dean sighed, “Look man, it’s protocol.  Either way I have to report this, so regardless if you’re ‘fine’ I’m calling it in.”  

“I did it myself.”  Dean had his walkie-talkie lifted halfway to his face before he stared back at Castiel, dumbfounded.

“You, what?”  He asked in disbelief.  

Castiel stared back at him, face impassive.  “I did it myself.  I fell and hit the side of the window sill.”  

Dean stared at Castiel with his mouth slightly agape then leaned his head back and laughed, “Yeah, yeah sure you did, dude.  Look, I know Uriel did it, so-yeah.”  He was about to lift the walkie talkie to his face again when Castiel spoke,

“It doesn’t matter.  They’ll take my story over yours.”  Dean halted.

“What did you say?”  He asked, feeling slightly affronted and a little angry.

“They’ll take my story over yours.  You’re wasting your time.”  Castiel repeated, voice emotionless.

Dean chuckled humorlessly, and crossed his arms over his chest, “Oh, yeah?  What makes you think that, you fucking psycho?”  Castiel kept eye contact with Dean, not flinching at the insult.

“Did you know that there are more lifeforms on your skin than there are people on the planet?” Dean blanched.  

What the fuck?

That’s it, the dude is fucking concussed.  Castiel continued as if there was nothing off about the situation, which for Dean was pretty damn hard because there was blood literally dripping from the guys face and he was rambling nonsense.

“It’s an odd thing  to think about.  You and I are both lifeforms.  Every man in this prison is a lifeform  Every single person, animal-plant.”  Castiel looks out the window, eyes  glazing over as he stared out at the woods that surrounded the prison.  “But we’re all so different.”   Dean stared at him, jaw hanging open slightly, walkie-talkie hanging loosely in his right hand.

“Dude, I don’t  know what the hell you are saying, but you got your head bashed in pretty good so maybe you should just, like , sit down until the medics get down here.”  

Thank God, the guy actually listened this time and sat down on the bed, hands folded in his lap.  Dean let out a long breath and mentally cursed Uriel as he lifted the talkie to his face and held down the button,

“I got a code blue down here in the processing station, a prisoner in need of medical attention, over.”  he waited a few seconds for a response,

 _“What’s the cell number?”_  came the staticy reply.

Dean sighed in relief when he heard Meg’s voice.

“Cell number 114, prisoner is Castiel Caelum.”  A few more seconds.  

 _“We’re on our way down, over and out.”_    Dean let out a long breath as he clipped his radio back to his belt and sat down on the other end of Caelum’s bed to wait for the medics.

He sincerely hoped that Uriel got fucking fired for this.  It’s not that he gave a fuck about Caelum, but this shit makes Dean’s job hell.  He has to fill out paperwork, and file a report and god fucking damn it he really was debating beating Uriel over the head himself.  Did the fucker really think he was going to get away with this?

He glanced over at Castiel who was staring down at his hands calmly.  The blood that had poured out of the gash in his head was now dry and cracking.  And Dean will resents himself for thinking it, but he couldn’t help but notice how it made his eyes seem even bluer.

He cleared his throat awkwardly trying to ignore the invasive thoughts, “So, Uh, yeah.  You’ve gotta’ tell me what happened.”  Castiel looked up at him curiously.  “I have to write a report.”  he added.  

Castiel didn’t blink.  “I believe I have already told you what happened.”

Dean felt aggravation rising in his gut, what, did this guy think he was stupid?

“Look, I know it was Uriel.  In order for him to be punished, I need to know exactly what happened.” pause, “So, start talkin’.”  Castiel clasped his hands together tighter and stared down at them.

“I tripped and fell into the-”  Dean stood up and got in front of Castiel,

“Don’t give me that fucking bullshit!”  He growled, eyes flashing dangerously.

“We interrupting something?”  Dean snapped his head over to where Meg was standing, medical kit in hand, Dr. Lee in tow.  He shot a fierce look at Castiel one last time, who seemed to be still fascinated with his hands, and then stalked over to Meg.

“Fucking Uriel is breaking protocol.  I’ve turned a blind eye to his bullshit before but this-”  He gestured behind him to Castiel, “This is out of hand!”  Meg furrowed her brow as she caught sight of the state of Castiel’s face, she gaped.  She pushed passed Dean and knelt down beside Castiel.

“Look at me, handsome.  Let me see the damage.”  She inquired gently.  Castiel slowly raised his head and Meg hissed through her teeth.  “You wanna’ tell me what happened?”  Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes.  Here we go.

“I seemed to have tripped and hit my head on the window sill.”  He declared without hesitation.  Dean groaned and Meg shot him a glare,

“Don’t you have other prisoners to tend to, Winchester?” She asked.  Dean glared back at her then to Castiel who was now looking out the window.  

“Whatever.”  He muttered before turning on his heel and stalking out of the cell.  The last thing he heard was Meg’s voice,

“The windowsill must have been pretty pissed off, huh Clarence?”  

****

This was Dean’s least favorite part of his job; shower duty.  He really didn’t enjoy staring at a bunch of dicks all day-regardless his sexual orientation.  Since it was only him on fishtank duty, he had to take the prisoners one at a time.  It shouldn’t take too long, there were only 3 other new convicts besides Caelum and each prisoner only gets 10 minutes max.

He made his way to the first clear cell, which held a dude named Andy.  As far as Dean could tell, the dude wasn’t that bad.  He didn’t know exactly what the guy did to get here, and he didn’t really want to.  But he figured it was probably something along the lines of theft, or fraud.  He didn’t look like he was capable of murder, so at least that was something.

“Alright man, shower time.”  Andy glanced up at Dean from his bed and nodded, standing up immediately.  He quickly grabbed a new pair of white scrubs to change into and walked out of his cell with Dean.  

Dean made it a point to have the prisoners walk in front of him when he was walking them somewhere.  Too many guards made the stupid mistake of turning their backs to the cons and ended up getting fucking strangled or knocked out.  That rarely happened now-a-days, but Dean wasn’t going to take a chance.

When Dean and Andy finally made it to the latrine, Andy paused at the sinks and glanced around nervously.  Dean watched him, feeling a tad amused and a little bit sympathetic.

“We don’t believe in shower curtains in this prison, sorry man.”  Andy glanced over at Dean, eyes wide,

“W-why not?”  he asked, his voice small.  

“It makes it hard for us to keep an eye on what you guys are doing if you have something blocking the way.”  Dean explained leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms.  Andy looked down at his clothes then back at Dean, face pale.

“If you guys are always watching us, then why do so many people get, like, ass-raped?”  Dean actually let out a surprised laugh at that.  

Dean was well aware of the fact that that’s the number one thing that most new cons worry about, but none of them had actually come right out and said it.  He was still chuckling to himself when he noticed that Andy was not amused at all, and was now staring at him with even more fear in his eyes.  Dean immediately stopped laughing.

“Dude, it’s not like we let it happen.  Christ, as much as we try we can’t watch you guys every second of the day.”  

It’s a common misconception that the showers are the most rape hoppin’ place in a prison.  mainly due to the fact there are always at least three guards who are in charge of patrolling the prisoners while they conduct their hygiene.  Dean was debating on telling Andy this, but then he noticed the guy looking at _him_ like he was about to cross the bathroom and have his way with him and that just wasn’t going to fly.

“Woah, what the hell man?!”  he exclaimed holding his hands up, “I’m not going to er-rape you either, dude.”  Andy looked down and shrugged, setting his change of clothes down on one of the sinks as he worked on pulling his scrub shirt off.

“I’ve watched things on the news about prison guards taking advantage of their...charges.”  He threw another skeptical look Dean’s way as he hesitantly undressed the rest of the way.  Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, alright, well that doesn’t happen here.”  His mind flashed back to Uriel and then Caelum's bloody face and he cringed, “Well...not often anyways.”  Andy froze and looked at Dean with a horrified look on his face.

“So it has happened!”  he shouted accusingly.  Dean groaned, and closed his eyes.

“Just, hurry up and take your shower dude, you don’t have a lot of time.”  Andy grumbled to himself and turned around, self-consciously covering his private parts causing Dean to chuckle.

“You might as well get used to this, man.  The other prisoners will eat you alive if you keep acting as sketchy as you are.”  Andy sighed as he stepped into the shower and turned the faucet on.  As he set to work on cleaning himself, he spoke to Dean.

“This prison is different from others.  I did research before…”  he paused, “Before my sentencing.”  Dean shrugged as he crossed one leg over the other,

“Did you do research on this prison?”  he asked matter-of-factly.  Andy hesitated.

“Yeah...Yeah, I did.”  Dean nodded.

“And what did you find out?” Dean asked nonchalantly, and Andy stopped washing himself so he could look back at him.

“It’s meant to hold the most violent criminals, like mass-murderers, and people who committed treason and stuff like that.”  He said.  Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked,

“And…”  he pressed.  Andy shuddered a bit.

“And...Supernatural creatures.”  Dean’s grin widened and he winked,

“Bingo.”  he chuckled at Andy’s face.  “Don’t worry, they’re all powerless while they’re in here.  We have wards and sigils drawn all over the prison.  And each prisoner has a cuff-link around their wrist.”  He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around his wrist,  “With the appropriate sigil to keep them contained and from causing any trouble.”  Andy stood under the flow of water, taking all of this in and glanced down at the cuff link around his own wrist.  Dean continued,

“So, I’m curious.”  he said cocking his head to the side at Andy.  “What are you?”  Andy’s head shot up and his eyes widened.

“Wh-what?  How do you know I’m not just a homicidal psychopath?”  he asked.  Dean raised an eyebrow and snorted,

“Dude, I know the type, and you’re not it.  So what are you?”  Dean studied him closer, “You’re not a demon, I know that for sure.  You’re not a shapeshifter.  What are you?”

Andy glanced down nervously.

“I can convince people to do things.”  He muttered.  Dean’s ears perked up.  

“You...what?”  He asked befuddled.  Andy shut off the shower and walked over to the sink and nervously started to dry himself off.

“I can make people do things-like, mind control.  I don’t know how, but I can.  That’s why I’m in here….I sorta’ made people give me their stuff….Like, money, cars, anything.”  Dean stared at him, mouth agape.  His heart started beating faster, the blood rushed to his ears.  This was too familiar.

“You’re one of them.” He whispered mostly to himself.  Andy stared at Dean confused,

“O-one of what?”  he stuttered nervously.  Dean shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it.  He definitely needed to call Sam later.

“Nothing.  You’re time is up, hurry up and get dressed.”  Andy nodded and hurriedly put his clothes on and Dean led him back to his cell.

The other two prisoners weren’t as sketchy as Andy, and didn’t ask as many questions-thank God.  He was thinking over what Andy said.  Him and Sam had done tons of research and had found similar cases of Sam’s….Condition.  But never one who had mind control.  Hell, Andy didn’t even seem to know anything about it.  He was just one of the many unfortunate people who were born with supernatural powers, and now he ended up here.  Dean felt a tinge of sympathy for the guy.

As he shut the cell door to prisoner number three, he groaned inwardly.  He was purposely putting off Caelum as long as he could.  The guy made him uncomfortable as fuck.  Which obviously is to be expected from a freakin’ murdering psychopath, but still.

He sighed and started making his way to Caelum’s cell.  When he got there, the prisoner was sitting on the floor, legs crossed with a book open on his lap.  Dean stared at him through the one sided glass for a moment.  His eyes were scanning the page, his brow furrowed in content.  He didn’t look like a murderer.  He didn’t look like anything.  He just looked like a simple man.  

And that was scary as hell.

Dean shook his head and scanned his ID.   The door buzzed open and Caelum looked up as Dean stepped in.  Dean noticed that the mans face immediately relaxed when he saw who it was.  Probably expecting Uriel or some other guy who was going to beat the bejeezus out of him.

“Hello, Mr.Winchester.”  He greeted in his gravelly voice.  Dean cringed at the name, it made him feel like an old man and that just wouldn’t fly considering Caelum was at least a couple years older than him.

“Uh, yeah, just call me Dean, alright?”  Castiel cocked his head to the side.

“Hello, Dean.”  As soon as his name was out of the guys mouth he felt a weird tingling feeling in the back of his neck- and maybe he felt something in his nether regions as well, but he’s not going to even going to acknowledge that.

Castiel was staring at him patiently, his pointer finger holding his place in his book, probably waiting for Dean to say something.  

“Uh, right.”  Dean cleared his throat,  “Time to hit the showers.”  Caelum stared at him a second longer, before nodding once and shutting his book and standing up.  He had a small bandage over the gash in his forehead.  He gathered his change of clothes and a towel and came to stand beside Dean.  

“Would you like me to go in front of you?”  He asked.  Dean was caught off guard,

“Uh, yeah, after you.”  Castiel nodded once before stepping out in front of Dean.

“Alright, it’s straight ahead.”  Dean informed Castiel as he shut the cell door.  Castiel started walking, Dean close behind.  Dean took this moment to rake his eyes over the guys body.  Not that he could really see much, considering the white scrubs weren’t very figure flattering, but still.

When he realized he was checking a fucking convict out he snapped his head up and stared at the back of the man’s head, feeling suddenly incredibly pervy and weird.  He was so caught up in his own moral dilemma he almost walked right passed the latrine.

“Turn here.”  He directed Castiel who immediately stopped.  Dean walked around him and scanned his ID (yes, they even have the latrine under maximum security) and held the door open as Castiel stepped through.

“Alright, you’ve got 10 minutes to shower, brush your teeth, brush your hair, whatever it is ladies do.”  Dean explained.  This, he was good at.  Being a condescending, snarky, prison guard.  He could do that.  

Castiel scrunched his brow at him confused, still clutching his clothes in his hands.

“I am not female, Dean.”  He stated.  Dean stared at him and he stared back.  Was this guy for real?

Dean shook his head, “Yeah, whatever, just hurry up, you don’t have all day.”

Castiel stared at Dean for a moment more, before nodding once and setting his clothes and towel down on the sink.  Unlike Andy and the other cons, Castiel didn’t hesitate to fling off his shirt, causing Dean to quickly avert his eyes.  He could hear the shuffling of clothes and a few seconds later Dean knew that Castiel was now completely naked.  

He cleared his throat for no apparent reason and found a spot in front of him to stare at.  Usually, he wasn’t nervous in the showers.  It was a job.  But now, for some reason he felt like he was invading someone's privacy.  He wondered why that was.  Maybe it was because Caelum didn’t act like a criminal.  He honestly just acted like a...crazy, dorky, little dude.

He thought back to the documentary he watched the night before and found it hard to think of Caelum-or Jimmy-or Castiel, or whoever the fucking guy was-as a mass-murderer.  It just didn’t make sense.  

But then, sometimes the craziest ones are the ones who look the most sane. Dean knows that from personal experience.  

He was pulled out his thoughts when he felt someone staring at him.  Out of habit he turned his head to meet Caelum’s eyes, making sure to not let them travel any lower than his collar bones...which were actually pretty nice-shit.  

He realized by the slight head tilt Caelum was giving him that he was expecting an answer to something.

“Uh-what?”  Dean asked smoothly.  Castiel didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest.  

“I am not quite sure as to how to work the shower.”  He explained.  Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

He made his way to Castiel’s side, “The levers are right here.”  He indicated to the wall on the outside of where the actual shower was.

“It’s weird, but sometimes people get a little greedy with the water so we have to turn it off for them.”  He put his hand on the left lever turning it slightly, “This is hot.”  The water started pouring out from the shower head above, “This is cold.”  he said turning the right one slightly.  He then turned to Castiel who had his brow scrunched together in concentration.

“You got that, Jimmy?”  Dean asked not even realizing his slip until Castiel’s eyes suddenly shot up and he turned his head slowly to look at Dean.  Dean cursed himself inwardly at his own mistake.

“Jimmy is not here.”  Castiel said, his voice low, almost a whisper.  His voice was wispy, almost a growl but not quite.   He was looking at Dean, eyes hard, boring through his skull.  Dean stared back, eyebrows raised slightly.

Okay, so the documentary did say the guy had multiple personalities, but that was kind of creepy.  Castiel cocked his head to the side slightly, still looking at Dean.

“I am not insane.”  He said.  Dean just nodded slowly, feeling suddenly incredibly anxious.

“Whatever you say, dude.  Just, yeah, take your shower.”  Dean thought that was the end of it, but Castiel didn’t budge.  

“I only have one personality.  It’s only me.”  He stated, and that’s when Dean’s blood went cold.  

Did this guy just read his mind?

Dean took a couple of steps back and glanced at the guys wrist, there were no shackles.  Nothing to keep whatever powers he may have at bay.  Dean put a hand down to his waist and wrapped his fingers around his baton.  This wasn’t good.

“What-what are you?”  He asked loudly, voice shaking slightly despite himself.

Castiel didn’t seem perturbed though.  He just kept his head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he examined Dean.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Dean.”  He stated softly, as if the idea offended him.  Dean snorted but kept his hand wrapped tightly around his baton.

“Yeah, is that what you told everyone else?  Huh?  Before you fucking slaughtered them you sick son of a bitch!”  Dean’s voice was still shaking slightly, but it was getting stronger and a tad louder.  

Castiel closed his eyes tightly and his face scrunched together, as if he was trying to push something horrible out of his head, and he probably was.  When he opened them again they looked tired and incredibly resigned.  

“I did not-”  He started but Dean shook his head,

“Bullshit!”  He snarled, cutting him off.  “Now what the fuck are you?” He asked again viciously.  Castiel’s shoulder slumped and his head dropped defeated.  He didn’t say anything and Dean let out a frustrated huff, “What are you?”  His voice was low now, not as threatening as before, but still authoritative.  He didn’t take his eyes of Caelum.

Castiel just stared down at the floor, face clouding over with something Dean couldn’t identify.

“Nothing.”  He whispered.  Dean blinked.

“What?”  he asked.  Castiel just shook his head and closed his eyes again.  Face screwing up in concentration as if he were trying to fight something within himself.

“I am not anything.  Not anymore.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so I have realized that if you decide to write after 2 in the morning, the result will either be really freakin' good, or just really freakin' awful. I don't know, I hope this chapter is okay, I worked on it a lot, but I'm not sure how it turned out. Gah, writing is hard sometimes. I could definitely do with a beta, but I'm too lazy to find one.
> 
> Anywho, thank you guys so much for the lovely comments and kudos :) Makes me feel inspired. Hopefully this turned out okay, and if not, I promise the next one will be better! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy,  
> Have a marvelous day, lovelies :D

_“We’re all guilty of hideous things-_

_it’s the nature of the world today._

_We hide our feelings, we hide our pasts,_

_We hide our true intentions._

_There’s no way to know what’s real anymore.”_

_-Suzanne Young_

The rest of the day went by in a blur.  Dean had called up to the office to have Caelum restrained and taken to the lab to be tested.  All the while, Caelum just went along with it.  Not saying a word.  And then when he did speak, he was just throwing out random facts that were totally irrelevant to the situation.   _(“Before a caterpillar completes his transformation into a moth, it will completely liquefy in the cocoon.  Isn’t that fascinating?”)_

They cut him with iron, they flicked him with salt, they made him drink holy water, and nothing.   He didn’t react to any of it.

Dean was stunned into utter disbelief.  The guy had read his friggen’ mind!  He literally had a raving lunatic messing around in his head!  The thought made his hair stand on end.

But no, Caelum wasn’t a demon, he wasn’t a shapeshifter, or a vampire or-anything.  As far as everyone knew, he was human.  Well,everyone besides Dean, of course.

As far as he was concerned, there was no way that Castiel Caelum was human.    But as it stood, there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

Bobby had let him go home early to supposively, ‘calm down and get some rest’.  Dean wasn’t complaining.  The sooner he got home, the sooner he got to fill his brother in on his strange conversation with Andy.  And that’s exactly what he did.

“I don’t know, Dean.  It kinda’ just sounds like a coincidence.”  Sam said skeptically.  Dean scoffed,

“Well, it’s a pretty damn good one!”  he fired back feeling irritated and grumpy after the beyond abnormal day he had been having.

He heard Sam sigh.  “Okay, okay.  Now, what could he do again?”   He asked tiredly.

“I don’t know, he could like-control people’s minds.”  he explained, still a little confused himself.  Then he chuckled, “Apparently he got some poor bastard to give him his car.  Heh.”  

He could practically _hear_ Sam’s bitch-face through the phone.

“That’s not funny, Dean.”  He said, causing Dean to roll his eyes.  “Anyways, did he mention having visions or anything?”  Sam asked, “Or, when his birthday was?”  

“Uh, no the guy was buck-ass-naked, Sam.  It wasn’t really a good time.  He already thought I was going to try and have my way with him.”  Dean grimaced at the thought and Sam snorted.  “Shut up.”

“Dean, I don’t know, there isn’t really enough to go on.  Just because he has freaky mind powers doesn’t exactly mean he’s part of…’Azazels gang’.”  Dean sighed.  Sam had a point, there wasn’t enough to go on.

“Yeah, yeah.”  he muttered a tad disappointed.  

“So, anyways,”  Sam said after a moment, “How’s Mr.Celebrity doing on lock-down?”  

Dean breathed out slowly, as the events from earlier that day played through his mind.  

“Dude, the freakiest shit.”  Dean stated, “The guy is not human, Sam.  I know it, he’s-he’s fucking cracked that’s for sure, but he’s not human.”  There was a shuffling on the other end of the phone,

“What do you mean?  What happened?”  Sam asked curiously.  Dean ran everything through his mind and tried to pick out what he could tell his brother first, and just ended up going with the obvious.

“He freakin’ read my mind, Sammy!”  Dean exclaimed, “I know he did, and he just-the way he looks, and talks, it’s just…”  Dean stumbled over his words, “Something is not right with this guy, Sam.”  Dean explained.

Sam was quiet on the other end, probably mulling over everything Dean said.

“Well, okay, so if he’s not human, then that’s whatever right?  I mean, the prison is _made_ for things like him, so, what’s the big deal?”  he asked.  Dean shook his head and groaned frustratedly,

“No, Sam!  That’s what’s fucking weird!  He passed all the test, he’s not a demon, shapeshifter, rugaru, nothing!”

“So, he’s...human?”  Sam said dubiously.  Dean debated reaching through the phone and strangling his little brother.

“God-no that doesn’t make fucking sense!”  Dean shouted, “Think about it, Sammy!  How could one guy just kill thousands of people in just a few months?  Huh?  Not dozens, not hundreds, _thousands_.”  Dean explained excitedly, “And-he friggen’ read my mind-which, is seriously a violation of personal space and I still feel a little traumatized, by the way.”  

Sam hummed thoughtfully, “You said that he passed all the tests, right?”  

“Yeah,”  Dean answered.  “Why?”  He heard Sam sigh, and could just picture him running his hand through his long hair thoughtfully.

“Well, have you ever considered the alternative?”  He asked slowly, as if he was a little unsure.  

Dean frowned into the phone.“Which is?”  

“Well, maybe he’s not a demon, or shapeshifter, or vampire or anything else.”  He answered.  

“Uh, yeah, Sammy, that’s kinda’ the point of this whole conversation.”  Dean stated sagely.

“Yeah, I know.  But I mean, what if-”  He hesitated, as if he was trying to figure out how to put it.  “What if, he’s something else?”  

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, “Like-what?”  He heard shuffling on the other end of the phone which he knew was probably Sam shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know, that’s why it’s weird.  Maybe he’s something we haven’t heard of before.”  A beat.  “Or maybe he’s an alien.”  

Dean snorted, “That would be more funny if it didn’t actually make so much sense.”

“Well, alien theory aside, he could seriously be something new.” Sam said.  “I mean, we discover new species of insects and fish, like, everyday.  It’s kinda’ the same thing.”  

Dean  chewed on his cheek thoughtfully.   _Maybe he’s something else._    Huh.  It was a scary thought, but...It made a lot of sense.

He shook his head, “Ahh, fuck, this is a mess.”  He said as he roughly ran his hand down his face.  

“Dean, you’re probably just making a big deal out of nothing.  I mean, sure there’s a lot of things that are sorta’...unexplainable, but sometimes these things just happen.  There doesn’t have to be anything supernatural involved.”

Dean hated to admit it, but his brother was probably right.  Weird things happened all the time. Amelia Earheart, for example.  Or, the bermuda triangle….

Or that dude who can lift friggen 50 pound weights with his tongue.  It doesn’t exactly mean that anything supernatural or demonic is going on.

“Yeah, yeah okay you’ve got a point…”  He admitted resignedly.  “But I’m still not chalking out the alien theory.”

Sam chuckled.  “You’re so lame.”  

“Shut up, bitch.”  Pause.  “Hey, did you know caterpillars completely liquefy in the cocoon?”  

“Really?  Huh...That’s actually kinda’ cool.”

“Yeah.”  Dean replied thoughtfully as he stared off into space, “Yeah, it is.”

***

The rest of the week went by without complication.  Bobby, thankfully, didn’t put Dean back on fish-tank duty and he was getting back into his regular shifts with ease.  He felt much more relaxed dealing with the normal (well, as normal as they can get) prisoners.

But Dean knew that his peace could only last for so long. He was going to have to face those all too intuitive blue eyes eventually.  But until then, he continued on with his shifts as usual;  laughing and joking around with his other guard buddies, separating fights that sprung up between prisoners, and clocking out after a long day’s work to go home to drink himself into an alcohol induced oblivion.

However, things took an odd turn a few days later during the prisoners rec-time, which-if the weather was nice- took place outside.

One of the cons known as Gabriel (and sometimes, Dean’s conscious, apparently)  made his way up to Dean, lollipop hanging out of his mouth and an arrogant smirk plastered to his face.  Dean scowled,

“Where did you get that, Gabe?”  He asked.  Gabriel looked down at his sucker and back up to Dean, innocently.

He shrugged, “I found it.”  He answered.  Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sure.”  

Dean actually kinda’ liked Gabriel.  He was annoying sometimes, and definitely could be a little shit.  But, he was alright.

“So, I heard we have a ‘big-fish’ in the prison now.”  Gabriel said waggling his eyebrows.  Dean just stared at him.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  He deadpanned.  Gabriel pulled off of his sucker with a pop and pointed it at Dean.

“You are a liar and a thief!”  He exclaimed dramatically to which Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Alright, chill with the theatrics.  His name is Caelum.  He’s a-”  He let out a breathy laugh,  “He’s a sick puppy.”

Gabriel frowned and looked down at the ground thoughtfully.

“Caelum…”  He muttered under his breath.  Dean frowned,

“Uh, yeah...Greek or something.”  Dean replied, cautiously.  Gabriel shook his head, still staring off into space thoughtfully.

“Nah, it’s Latin.  What’s his first name?”  he asked.  Dean was feeling especially confused now.

“Uh, Castiel.  Why?”  Gabriel’s eyes shot up in recognition, but it was gone as fast as it had came.  As if realizing his slip-up,  Gabe quickly schooled his face back into that of nonchalance.

“Huh, weird.”  He said, all too casually for Dean’’s liking.  “So, what’d he do?”  Dean eyed Gabriel suspiciously,

“He single-handedly murdered thousands of innocent people.”  Dean answered, bitterly.  Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and if Dean didn’t imagine it, something similar to worry.  

“Really...woah.”  Dean eyed him carefully and narrowed his eyes.

“Do you...know him?”  He asked cautiously.  Gabriel’s eyes widened and he shifted slightly.  Dean was well aware of every prisoners tells, and that was definitely Gabe’s, ‘I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about-but-actually-I-really-do’ look.  But, alas, Gabriel just shook his head and popped his lollipop back in his mouth,

“No, idea what you’re talking about, Dean-o!”  He answered cheerily and then clapped his hands together.  “But, while you know how much I love our talks, I really do, I’ve got criminal stuff to get up to.  Adios amigo!” And just like that Gabriel was hurrying away, leaving Dean to stare after him totally confused, and very suspicious.  

“Latin, huh.”  Dean muttered to himself and stored it away in the back of his mind for later.

***

Dean was now sitting on his laptop at 10:00 at night with a bottle of whiskey opened next to him.  He knew at this point he could probably be considered ‘obsessive’.  But he needed to figure this out.  He didn’t know why, but he felt like Caelum was some sort of puzzle that he-Dean specifically- had to piece together.

He took a large swig of whiskey, flinching only slightly as it trailed a burning path down his throat, and then opened Google translate.

He adjusted the settings to ‘Latin’ and chewed on his lip a little bit.  Yeah, this was definitely verging on the edge of obsession.   

“Whatever.”  Dean muttered to himself as he typed _Castiel_ into the box and hit translate.  Nothing.  He sighed frustratedly and tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the keys.  He backspaced before replacing it with _Caelum_.  He quickly pressed enter before taking another long swig of whiskey.  He glanced back at the screen and scrunched his brow together in confusion.  

There wasn’t just one, but numerous results for Castiel’s last name.  Dean hummed under his breath and scrolled through curiously and started reading off the list of meanings to himself

 _“Climate, atmosphere, air.”_  he scowled and shook his head.  Those weren’t exactly anything extravagant.  Not really what he was looking for.  He cracked his neck and continued reading through the list and suddenly, his heart started picking up pace.

 _“Honor, summit of prosperity, graving tool, sky-”_  he stopped at the last result, the tumblrs in his mind starting to churn together.   _“Vault of Heaven.”_  He whispered, stunned.

What the fuck.

Dean looked up, brow scrunched together in concentration.  On one hand, he felt like he had just found a very important piece to this extremely weird-and admittedly attractive-puzzle.  On the other, he felt really stupid for looking into something that could end up being nothing.

 _The guy went to fuking Harvard._  Dean thought to himself, _He probably studied a bit of Latin and then decided to change his name to something that made him seem mysterious and powerful and stuff._  He reasoned.  

Regardless, it didn’t stop him from going back to Google’s home page and typing in the name, _Castiel_ into the search bar. 

Of course the results were just a bunch of articles and headlines.   He let out a frustrated sigh then just decided to skip ahead six pages.

“Ahh, now we’re getting somewhere.”  He muttered as he scrolled through the new links.  He wiggled the mouse over the screen, debatingly before just clicking one at random.

He skimmed his eyes over the first couple of sentences of the article and stiffened.

_“Are you fucking kidding me?”_

***

Dean burst through the office doors the next day and stalked right up to Bobby.

“Bobby, I want fishtank duty today.”  He declared.  Bobby raised his eyes from the papers he was reading and stared at Dean like he’d lost his mind.

“Woah, now calm down boy, what are you yammerin’ about?”

“I want fishtank duty today.”  He repeated, more calmly than before.  Bobby eyed him up and down suspiciously,

“Why in God’s name would you want that?  You hate being in the fishtank.”  Dean nodded his head quickly,

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but...I’m uh-”  Pause.  “Broadening my horizons.” He finished.  Bobby narrowed his eyes at him.

“I don’t know, you sure about that?  I mean, you were pertty shakin’ up a few days ago, and Caelum’s not bein’ moved to his new cell ‘till tomorrow.”  

Dean kept a straight face.  “Well, I’m going to have to deal with him eventually one way or another.  Right?”  He threw out his cocky smirk, “Besides,  I ain’t scared of some wack-job.”  

Bobby continued staring at him suspiciously before sighing and and closing his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, go ahead.”  Dean inwardly high-fived himself.  “But!”  Bobby added opening his eyes and pointing a finger at him, “No funny business, ya’ hear?”  

Dean smiled wide. “Oh, come on!  You have nothing to worry about!  I’m the poster-boy for maturity!”  He exclaimed.  Bobby just snorted and rolled his eyes before turning on his heel and walking away.

Dean usually would stop for a cup of coffee before heading down, but he was already hyped enough on adrenaline.  Instead, he threw his bag into his locker, checked to make sure he had everything he needed, and started making his way to the fishtank.

The keys in his pocket jingled as he walked and for some reason the noise encouraged him forward.  He reached into his pocket for his ID card and when he almost bumped into a large brick-wall that seemingly came out of nowhere.  

Confused, Dean looked up to find that it was _not_ a brick-wall, but was-in fact- Uriel.  

He stiffened immediately, and glared at the man, dangerously.

“What the fuck do you want, Uriel?”  he snarled taking a step forward.  Uriel continued to smile, eyes sparkling, making Dean want to rip them out of his face.  

Uriel raised his hands as if in surrender.  “Now, now, Winchester.  No need to be so hostile.”  Dean scoffed,

“You’re a freakin’ bastard, you know that?”  He snapped, “What the fuck makes you think you can use my cons as punching bags, huh?”  He was in Uriel’s face now, eyes flashing dangerously.  Yeah, Uriel was a pretty-big dude, and probably ate nails instead of corn flakes.  But Dean dealt with demons on a daily basis.  Uriel was nothing as far as he was concerned.  

But Uriel didn’t make a move, he just kept staring at Dean with that smug smile, which actually made Dean even more pissed.

“Wow, Winchester.  I never knew you had a soft-spot for murderers.  Makes me wonder about you.”  

“You broke protocol you son of a bitch!”  

Uriel let out a low rumble of laughter.  “Why, I assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bull-shit!  I know it was you, and I know about your little ‘black market’ operation you’ve got goin’ on with the cons!”  Uriel grinned wider, before leaning down closer to Dean.

“Oh, so you know some things about me.”  He replied ominously.  “But I know some things about you as well.”  Dean blanched, suddenly getting a bad taste in his mouth.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confused.  

Uriel leaned back and pursed his lips.“You know, there’s a new law passed that any being with supernatural tendencies should be reported.”   Dean frowned.

“Yeah, so?”  

“So,”  the large man said slowly, the smug smile back with a vengeance. “It would be a shame if someone happened to make a call in about a certain...Sam Winchester.”  

Dean’s blood ran cold.   _Fuck._ _  
_

“You son of a bitch.”  He whispered, voice shaking with controlled anger.  He was being fucking black-mailed.  Uriel let out another low laugh.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Winchester.  I can keep a secret.”  A beat.  “Well, as long as _you_  can.”  

And with that, Uriel gave Dean one last mischievous smirk, before kicking himself off the wall, and making his leave.

When Uriel was out of sight, Dean put but hands on either side of his head and let out a frustrated growl.

“Fuck.”  he cursed, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  

How the hell did Uriel know about Sammy?  Not only that, but how _much_  did he know?  This was bad, this was really fucking bad.  

Dean stood in the corridor for a few minutes, trying to calm himself down and collect his thoughts.  

It was fine.  It would be okay.  As long as Dean played his cards right and Uriel didn’t decide to fuck with him and rat him out anyways, Sam would be okay.

He needed to chill out.  He had more urgent matters to attend to at the moment and he needed to be on his A-game.  He took a few more deep, calming breaths, before scanning his ID and pushing through the doors.

He stalked through the long corridor, glancing into each cell as he went to make sure each prisoner was squared-away, before finally making it to the last one.

Dean looked through the one-sided glass into Caelum’s cell.  Castiel had his back towards him, looking out the window, hands clasped loosely behind his back.  

_What the fuck was so interesting that he's always looking out that damn window?_

Dean took one more deep breath before buzzing the cell open and stalking into the room, determinedly.  Castiel didn’t turn around.  He just kept facing out the window, his features as calm as ever.  

“Hello, Dean.”  He acknowledged in his deep gravelly voice, almost as if he was expecting him.  Dean walked up behind him.

“Your cover is God, huh?”  He stated without hesitation.  Castiel visibly stiffened, but didn’t reply, so Dean continued.

“Castiel; angel of Thursday also, the angel of solitude and tears.  Some even say that he’s the angel of temperance.”  Dean recited from the information he stayed up all night researching. “Is known for showing great interests in humanity and often observes from afar-but, is never to interfere.”  Dean snorted at the last part and continued talking to the back of Castiel’s head.

“I don’t know, Cas.  See, I’d say you interfere _a lot_.  You’re ‘interfering’ seems to be what got you throw in here in the first place.”  His voice had taken on a mocking tone, trying to get something-anything out of the con.  For him to start screaming or crying-anything.  But he didn’t.  

Instead the prisoner, remained as stoic as ever.  Still staring out that damned window.  The only sign that what Dean was saying was having any effect on him, was the fact that his hands were clasped so tightly together it looked almost painful.

“Got nothin’ to say, huh?”  Dean asked taking a step closer.  “Nothing at all?”  

“What would you like me to say, Dean?”  Castiel asked, finally.   Voice so quiet that Dean had to strain to hear it.  

But he still. Wasn’t.  Looking at him.  And for some reason that pissed Dean off to no end.  So, with a sudden surge of anger and adrenaline, Dean grabbed Castiel’s arm roughly and spun him around, startling the con and making his eyes widen in surprise.

“I want you to tell me what the fuck you are!”  Dean snarled into his face.  Castiel’s brow scrunched together in confusion.

“Don’t you already know?”  He asked, face genuine.  Dean growled and grabbed the man by his shirt collar and pushed him back to where he slammed against the wall with a loud bang.

“You expect me to believe that you’re a fucking angel?”  He slammed him back again, taking all his frustrations out on the man he currently had pinned.  Castiel’s big blue eyes were wide, but-not in fear.  No, it wasn’t fear.  It was what looked more like...genuine surprise and vulnerability and weirdest of all, concern.  

What could the con possibly be concerned about?  Besides the fact that Dean was literally manhandling him up against the wall like a fucking rag-doll.  Dean didn’t know, and at this point, he didn’t really care.

“Angels don’t fucking exist, and even if they did, what kind of fucking angel are you, huh?”  he asked before slamming him against the wall yet again.  Dean knew his temper was getting out of control, but he couldn’t help it.

“What kind of fucking angel _kills_  innocent people?”  he asked, voice rising, “What kind of angel, has fucking panic attacks at the drop of a hat?”  he was slamming Castiel back into the wall with even more force now, “What kind of angel let’s himself get thrown into a maximum-security prison?”  

Castiel’s hands had come up to cover Dean’s that were clenched tightly in the con’s collar.  He wasn’t trying to pry them off, or push him away.  No, he was just clutching them, almost warmly, almost-comfortingly?

Dean slammed him against the wall one last time before finally stilling.  He kept Castiel pinned, their faces just inches away from each others-frantic breaths mingling together seamlessly.  They stared at each other, Dean still clutching into the man’s shirt collar, Castiel’s hands still overlapping his.

“What kind of angel,”  Dean whispered, “Let’s himself get the shit beat out of him by rouge prison-guards?”  

Castiel didn’t answer immediately.   He just stared at Dean, his face contorting into pain that Dean felt wasn’t just from getting thrown against the wall a million times.  

“One that deserves it.” Dean’s breath caught in his throat. The man's voice was soft and rough and just so fucking,  _honest_.   

 He studied Castiel’s face closely, taking everything in as best as he could, the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

Castiel studied him back, his eyes searching Dean’s face for nothing in particular.  Just studying and memorizing, like Dean was one of the dozens of books he has laying around his cell.

And that was it.  

Dean growled loudly, and with just as much force as he used when he was slamming Castiel’s body against the wall-he crushed their lips together, and he was _lost_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I hope that was okay. Let me know if I should change anything or if there are any mistakes and I'll get right on it :)
> 
> Oh, and yes I am mixing up the angel lore. There are rumors that Castiel was based on the angel 'Cassiel' so I decided to combine both of their back-story's to make it more interesting and useful.
> 
> But I hope you guys like it! Until next time folks!
> 
> *Tips hat and walks away*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayy! I finally got this chapter out of my noggin', woo! Thank all of you lovely darlings for the comments and kudos and such, I really appreciate it. I am also sorry I took a while to post this, I've been sorta' busy with work and stuffz. But I hope you enjoy this chapter. I think the writing might be a little sloppy and rushed in some parts, but I'll come back and fix everything eventually, I just wanted to get this out for you guys.
> 
> But yeah, enough of this, onto the story!
> 
> Enjoy lovelies :D

_“Once you have tasted flight,_

_You will forever walk the earth_

_with your eyes turned skyward,_

_for there you have been,_

_and there you will always long to return.”_

_-Leonardo da Vinci_

 

Dean didn’t know what he was doing, actually-that’s a lie, he knew exactly what he was doing.  But he had no control over the fact that he was doing it.  He had Castiel’s collar scrunched up tightly in his fist and the convicts back pressed against the wall, hard.  His lips were moving forcefully over Castiel’s with fervor, he didn’t even notice that the smaller man wasn’t kissing back-well, until he actually started kissing back.

The hands that were covering Dean’s previously suddenly moved to the back of Dean’s head and fisted into his short hair almost desperately and, hell, Dean knew the feeling.  Castiel’s mouth opened and Dean took that opportunity to thrust his tongue into the wet heat, nearly groaning from the feeling.

It was messy and fast and practically panicked, the way they were kissing each other.  It was perfect-that is-until Dean realized what the fuck he was doing.  With a low grunt he pushed back off Castiel and flew across the room as far away from the man as he could get.  Castiel stayed where he was, back against the wall, hands still up in the air from where he was clutching Dean’s hair.  He looked dazed and a little shocked, but then seemed to be able to compose himself enough to where he finally dropped his hands to his sides and looked across the room at Dean.  

Dean was standing a few feet away, breathing hard, the blood still pumping loudly in his ears.  How the _fuck_ could he have done that?  Holy shit, what if someone had decided to come down and check on everything?  What the hell was he thinking?  

He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again.  What was he supposed to say now?  He physically abused the guy and then practically molested him.  Jeez-maybe Andy had a point about the whole ‘guards-taking-advantage-of-their-charges’ thing.  But, then again, Cas didn’t stop him, he had returned the kiss, hadn’t he?

The man in question was standing across the room, still looking a tad frazzled, but now seemed more composed even a little confused, and Dean didn’t blame him.  He wasn't that lucid at the moment either.  Then-a thought struck him.  Dean’s eyes shot up to the cons'.

“Wh-what did you do to me?”  He asked shakily.  Castiel frowned, apparently taken aback by the abruptness of the question.

“I-I don’t understand.”  he answered, sincerely.  Dean shook his head frantically, panicking more now.

“No, no you did something!  You did something to make me-make me do that!”  Dean accused, stuttering over his words in his frenzy.  Castiel widened his eyes as realization dawned on him,

“Dean, I would never-I am not a siren, I assure you I did nothing of what you are implying.”  Castiel’s eyes were wide and it was obvious he was offended and hurt by Dean’s accusation.  Dean just kept shaking his head.  He couldn’t have just done that all of that of his own free will-could he?  No, he wouldn’t of, Castiel Caelum is a murderer.  A manipulative, cold blooded, homicidal psychopath.  Dean would never stoop as low to just-attack the dude with his mouth, not him.  

But-he did.  Dean looked down at his shoes, still in shock, feeling numb all over.  He did want to kiss Castiel.  Hell, he wanted to do more than that and that was the problem.  Caelum was sick and twisted and Dean had just-

He looked back up again at Caelum and what he saw actually made him feel a small pang of remorse.  Castiel was standing fist clenched tightly by his sides, and eyes staring at Dean, filled with-with fear.

That caught Dean off guard, why was he scared?  Was he scared of Dean?  The man was watching Dean carefully, like a scared little animal about to get put down.  He thought Dean was going to hurt him. Like Uriel had hurt him, and probably numerous other guards, considering the bruises the man had on him when he first arrived at the prison.   

Dean never minded it when the prisoners were scared of him, hell, he encouraged it.  But now, it just felt wrong.  He didn’t want Castiel to be scared of him, he didn’t want to be in the same league as Uriel, or any of those other bastards who beat up prisoners just because they could.  He breathed out slowly, trying to calm himself so he wouldn’t yell again, then he spoke.

“Cas, I’m not going to hurt you man, just-stop doing that.”  He said, proud of himself for keeping his tone soft, considering the situation.  Castiel’s brow scrunched together,

“Stop doing what, Dean?”  He asked.  Dean ignored the small inkling of satisfaction he got out of hearing Cas say his name-not a good time.

“Stop-Stop looking like I’m going to go crazy on you or something.  I’m not like Uriel.  I’m not going to hurt you.”  Dean realized that he kinda’ already did go a little crazy, but it’s not like he actually hit the guy or anything. _No, You didn’t really hurt him...Just pretty much dry humped him into an oblivion._  Dean blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, right, I’m gonna’ go check on the other prisoners and stuff.” _Okay._ He straightened up and tried to harden his face up a little bit and get back into the big-bad-prison-guard facade, “Don’t-uh...Stay out of trouble.”  He said quickly, and immediately wanted to beat himself over the head with his own baton.

Castiel just cocked his head to the side, looking more befuddled now than scared, which was kind of a relief on Dean’s part, although he wasn’t sure why.  He was now halfway out of the cell and was standing, awkwardly, before nodding his head once and then turning around and stalking out, buzzing the door closed behind him.  

He stopped short, and turned to look through the one sided glass at Castiel.  The prisoner hadn’t moved from his spot, he was staring down at the at the floor in front of him, seeming deep in thought.  Dean felt like he should just keep on walking, to just look away, but he couldn’t.  This seemed private, but, weirdly enough, that made him want to keep watching.  Maybe, Castiel would give himself away and do something that would prove all of Dean’s previous accusations right.

Maybe he would start rubbing his hands together mischievously and start laughing like those super-villains Dean used to watch with Sammy on those Saturday morning cartoons.  Or maybe he would transform into some weird dracula-esc monster type thing.

Dean wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he was confused, his mind was everywhere.  He needed something, anything, to make this guy the one whose face was splayed across every newspaper and magazine around the country.  The man that was known all over as a menace, a murderer and a monster.

But, alas, Castiel did none of those things.  Instead, he lifted his hand slowly to his face and touched his fingers to his kiss-swollen lips softly, almost curiously.  Dean felt his throat tighten and his chest constrict  painfully. Castiel then dropped his hand to his side, staring down at the ground.  Dean continued to watch, totally enthralled with the man.  Castiel stood still for a few more seconds, before he walked over to his small pile of books, plucked one off the very top, sat down.

Dean stood in the corridor for a few more seconds.  What was it with this guy?  What was it about him that made Dean act like this?  Dean sighed and shook his head.  He should probably get back to his actual job instead of creepily gazing at guys through one way glass.

He was so confused.  Nothing was making sense.  Nothing was coming together the way he thought it would.  He didn’t want to believe that Caelum could be an angel, but...There was no other explanation.  Maybe, he was just a very powerful demon- no, he passed all the test, that couldn’t be it.  Maybe Sam was right and he was just some sort of creature they had never heard of before.

All signs pointed to the fact that Castiel Caelum could very well be an...angel.  But, that’s insane, because angels don’t exist.   Even if Caelum was a celestial being sent from above-wherever ‘above’ may be- he obviously wasn’t all that powerful, considering he hasn’t broken out of this friggen’ prison yet.  Which, if he was an angel, he could easily do-right?

Dean didn’t know what to think.  His mind was a mess at the moment, from finding out that the prison could possibly have an actual angel on their hands, to Uriel’s threat, and all the way to the really surprising kiss with a fucking prisoner.  He felt like his life was suddenly about to get a lot more interesting and a whole lot more abnormal, and abnormal was something Dean Winchester spent a lot of time trying to avoid.

****

The next day was Deans day off, which was something he was desperately in the need of.  He made a silent promise to himself that he wouldn’t cyber-stalk any convicted mass-murderers in his free time.  Which, weirdly didn’t leave a lot for him to do.  So, at a loss of what to do to keep himself busy and his mind occupied, he decided to head to The Roadhouse.

He knew it was the right decision as soon as he walked into the dim room of the bar.  Almost immediately was hit with a sense of calm and nostalgia.  He’d been coming to The Roadhouse at least twice a week for four years now and it had slowly but surely become his home away from home.

“Hey, brother!”  Benny greeted from behind the bar.  “Long time no see!”  Dean chuckled as he made his way over and sat down at a stool while Benny promptly cracked open a beer and sat it down in front of him, as was routine.

“I was here a few days ago, Benny.”  Dean clarified as he picked up the bottle and took a large gulp.  

“Eh, same thing.”  Benny responded as he picked up a glass and started polishing it with a rag.

Benny and Dean had been good friends for a while now.  He actually owed Benny his life.  A few years back, Dean had been walking to his car, from the bar, when a group of very hungry vamps decided that they wanted him as their next meal.  Now, Dean was pretty well-trained in the art of combat, his father made sure of that, but there were at least six of them and Dean was pretty wasted that night.  So, in other words, he was pretty well on his way to being food-or so he thought.  Just as the vamps were getting ready to sink their teeth in, there was a gunshot behind them, and there stood Benny.  Rifle in hand and aimed directly at the group.

“These aren’t no normal bullets, each ones been thoroughly coated in dead-mans blood.  You’ll be in a world-load of pain for a while-just long enough for me to rip your heads off.” He said in a loud booming voice, with a twinge of southern-drawl. The vampires just stared, obviously shocked at the sudden turn of events.  They eyed Benny skeptically, but had yet to move until Benny fired another bullet right at the vamps feet before quickly reloading it and aiming it back at them.

“You wanna’ test me?”  This time they didn’t hesitate.  They quickly let go of Dean,  turned and ran away, not daring to look back.  Benny watched them scatter before lowering his gun and walking over to Dean, who was pretty much on the verge of throwing up.

“You alright, brother?”  He asked patting him on the shoulder, comfortingly.  Dean swallowed, still not over the fact that he was almost vampire chow.

“Uh, yeah-yeah I think I’m good.  Thanks for, uh-all that.”  

Benny just shrugged,“No problem.  I’m Benny.”  He greeted as he stuck his hand out.

“Dean.”  He said, taking the offered hand and shaking it.

Ever since that night, they had been close friends.

“So, how’s work goin’?”  Benny asked casually, pulling Dean out of his flashback.  

He shrugged, “Eh, you know.  Same ole’ same ole’.”  He answered, deciding to play it safe and-you know-not mention the fact that he had used a convicts tonsils as a punching bag for his tongue just the day before.

“I heard about that Caelum fella’ being caught.  What’s he like?”  Benny asked curiously, making Dean’s previous thought even more awkward.  He did his best to keep his face nonchalant as he took another swig of his beer.

“Eh, nothing spectacular.  Just a twisted son of a bitch like the rest of ‘em.”  he replied, ignoring the small twinge of guilt he felt as he said it.

Benny just hummed under his breath and that was that.  

“Hey, Winchester!”  Jo Harvelle exclaimed making her way over to where Dean sat with an empty tray in hand.  “It’s about time you got your ass back here!”  Dean glared at the petite blonde,

“I was literally here just last week, why is everyone acting like it’s been forever.”  

“We’ve just missed you that much.”  Ellen answered for him as she appeared out the back right behind her daughter and gave Dean an affectionate pat on the back.

“Aw, Ellen.  I never took you as the flirting type.”  He said, winking at the older woman, who just rolled her eyes in return.

“Boy, I’m old enough to be your mother.”  Dean cocked his head thoughtfully,

“Hm, fine.”  He turned to look at Jo, “How about you, Jo?”  he asked as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, only to be punched in the arm by both women.

“Ow, jeez tough crowd.”  he muttered as he rubbed his now sore arm.  Never let it be said that the Harvelle woman can’t throw a punch.

He chatted with Ellen and Jo for awhile, answering questions about Sam and Jess and the baby.  When questions about work arose, he skillfully deflected by asking how the bar was doing and if Jo was dating anyone new.

After a few beers, Dean decided to call it a night and head home, bidding Benny, Jo and Ellen goodnight.  He drove home, feeling a little more relaxed than he had been feeling in the past few days.  Maybe, all he was needing was to get out of his apartment for a little bit.  Hell, he had been spending most of the time at home or at work.  It probably wasn’t healthy.  He made a mental note to himself to spend more time out.  Maybe pick up a guy or two.  At that thought, his mind immediately flashed back to Castiel, and his mouth against his and his hands in his hair and-

 _Fuck_.  Fuckity-fuck what the hell was he thinking?  Yeah, he definitely needed to get laid.  Maybe that would get his mind off his weird-ass prisoner.  Wait, did he just say _his_ weird-ass prisoner?  No, no, Castiel wasn’t Dean’s weird-ass prisoner, he was just a weird ass prisoner in general-you know...In the non-possessive sense.  Even though...That was kind of a sexy visual… _Hot blue-eyed prisoner does the do with blonde guard_.  Dean was so caught off guard by his own perverted mind that he nearly swerved and hit a tree.

“Jesus fuck!”  He shouted to himself as he slammed the palm of his hand down on the steering wheel.  What the hell was wrong with him?  

When he finally got home that night, plagued by his own intrusive thoughts, he immediately slipped off his shoes and his jacket and fell face first into his bed, making sure his alarm clock was set for tomorrow morning.  

Caelum was scheduled to be transferred to his new cell and out of the fishtank today.  He was now going to be under Dean’s watch along with all the other cons.  He buried his face in his pillow and let out a low groan.  He had a feeling things were about to get very interesting at Inmanis Pentatintery.  

****

When Dean got to work the next morning, he was immediately greeted by a frazzled Adam.

“Dean, dude, you totally missed it yesterday!”  Dean raised an eyebrow and shoved his bag into his locker and slamming it shut.

“What?  Someone get out of their shackles again?”  he asked.  Adam shook his head frantically,

“No, dude it was crazy.  Okay, so you know how Caelum was transferred to his new cell yesterday, right?”  He asked hurriedly.  Dean’s heart gave a hard thump at Caelums name.

“Uh, yeah.  So?”  He asked as they made their way out of the locker room and into the corridor.

“Well, at rec time, we took the prisoners outside and Caelum was just like, sitting on the picnic table just, I don’t know, staring off into space, and next thing you know, some of the prisoners started surrounding him.”  Dean had a feeling he knew where this was going.

Adam continued.“Well, the guy didn’t even really acknowledge them, which was weird, because they were like, all up in his grill and stuff.”  Dean snorted at Adams wording as they continued down the corridor, “Well, one of the bigger guys started getting PO’d that he wasn’t acknowledging them so he  literally ripped the guy off the table and threw him on the ground.”  Dean felt his stomach drop a little, and Adam continued.

“At this point, me and Blake-who was on duty yesterday- were like, ‘we better go stop this’ but before we could get there, the big guy literally started kicking Caelum friggen’ hard.  Which, if you ask me is kinda’ cheap, I mean, don’t kick a man when he’s down, you know what I’m saying?”  Adam explained.  

“Get to the point, Adam.”  Dean pressed, knowing that a simple prison fight wasn’t what had Adam so excited.  Adam let out a deep breath as if he was preparing himself for what he was about to say.

“Out of nowhere, Caelum grabs the guys leg mid-kick and snaps it in half!  Seriously, you could have heard it from a mile away, it was sick!”  Dean blanched at that, feeling totally shocked.

“Like, he just...broke the dudes leg?”  He asked, even though he knew that was exactly what Adam had just told him, but Adam just nodded quickly,

“But that’s not even the weirdest part!”  Adam exclaimed, gesturing wildly.  “When me and Blake finally made it over there, all the prisoners had backed up and were just staring at Caelum looking like they were all about to shit themselves. Well, we looked at him and he was _smiling_ \- like, breaking that guys leg in half was the most satisfying thing in the world!” Adam stopped talking shaking his head, obviously still spooked.  Dean was quiet, taking this all in with shocked disbelief.

“That’s, uh…” Dean breathed out, not knowing what to say.  Adam nodded agreeingly, and then got this thoughtful look on his face.

“It’s weird, because he looked...different.”  Dean glanced over at his friend and frowned,

“What do you mean he looked different?”  Adam shrugged,

“I don’t know how to explain it.  He just...Up until the fight he just had the creepy serene look on his face, ya’ know?  Nothing really weird.  But then... he looked…”  Pause.  “He looked really fucking scary.”  Adam admitted.  

They had finally made it to the cells and they both stopped walking and faced each other.

“What happened after that?”  Dean asked, still a little shocked at what he was hearing.

“Well, we took the prisoners back to their cells.  Caelum isn’t allowed to leave his cell for a week and the guy who’s leg he broke is in the infirmary.”  Dean nodded, now lost in his own thoughts.  Adam glanced around them, as if to make sure no one would overhear what he was about to say, and he took a step closer to Dean.

“Dean, when we first brought Caelum here, I mean, I thought the guy was a friggen’ wreck.”  Adam whispered, “He didn’t look anything like a guy who could single-handedly slaughter thousands of people. I thought it was some sort of fluke. But...after yesterday-”  He trailed of shaking his head slowly.  “After yesterday,  there’s no doubt in my mind that this guy is dangerous.”  

Dean studied Adam’s face, and didn’t miss the obvious fear that was there.  He didn’t blame the kid.  Hell, if he’d seen that stunt yesterday, he’d probably be a little shaken too.  But, Dean didn’t feel scared-a little shocked, yeah-but not scared.  And, if he was being honest with himself, he felt a little disappointed.  

Disappointed in the fact that, after hearing Adam’s story, he knew now that Caelum really was what he had believed him to be from the start.  He cursed himself internally.  He should have known this.  Castiel Caelum had tricked him, had tricked everyone.  He made himself look like some meek little recluse of a guy, when in reality he was twisted and manipulative and just plain evil.  Dean felt anger rise in his chest and underneath that, a hint of betrayal and betrayal wasn’t something Dean Winchester just let go.

Adam stared at him with concern, “Uh, Dean?  You okay?”  Dean didn’t answer.  Instead, he turned his back to Adam and started marching through the cells.  Caelum had him fooled, that’s for sure, and Dean wasn’t going to let that fly.  He heard Adam calling his name but ignored it.  As he stalked through the hall, he looked into each cell, trying to catch a glance of dark black hair and bright blue eyes.

“Hey, Dean-o, whatcha’ doing?”  Gabriel asked through the bars of his cell as Dean strutted by.  He didn’t answer, he was on a mission.    He continued peering into each cell at each prisoner, yet to find the man he was looking for, until he got to the very end.  He came to a halt and glared into the cell.

Caelum was standing, back facing him, arms clasped loosely behind his back in his familiar stance.

“Hello, Dean.”  He greeted, and Dean felt a chill go up his spine.  Castiel’s tone had changed.  Instead of the soft spoken gravely voice Dean was used to the man speaking in, it was...darker, almost mocking.  

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”  Dean asked, voice low, fist bawled into fist at his sides.  Castiel let out a loud, deep laugh, almost a cackle.

“I think I’m adorable.”  He answered, his back still turned towards Dean.  “I also think you’re pretty attractive as well.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”  Dean snarled, cheeks turning a totally impossible shade of red from his fury.

“Well, there is obviously a lot wrong with me.”  The con answered matter-of-factly, “For one, the food here sucks.  For two-Hm.  I’m stuck inside a rogue angel who has all but lost his mind and is currently wilting away in his own guilt and self-loathing.”  Deans eyes widened.

“What the fuck are you saying, what are you talking about?”  he asked.  The man in question let out a low chuckle.

“I mean, at the moment, I’m running the show.”  Dean scrunched his brow together.  What the hell was going on?  

“What are you talking about?  Who are you?”  

“You know, me and my brothers all couldn’t wait for the day that we could finally get released from Purgotory, and we knew it would happen eventually.”  The con explained calmly, a mischievous lilt to his voice.  “But, we were not expecting to be crowded into some angels vessel, that-ha, that was a bit of a surprise.”

“Purgatory?”  Dean asked, mostly to himself, trying to grasp what exactly this guy was getting at.  The prisoner hummed under his breath.

“Yup.”  He answered, darkly.  Then, slowly, he dropped his arms, and turned around.  The shadow was shielding most of his face but Dean could tell he was smirking.  When the man in question finally took a step forward out of the shade,  Dean could only gape.

Across the right side of Castiel’s face, were these thin dark lines, going from his temple all the way down to his collarbone, reminding Dean of cracks in porcelain.  Castiel’s smirk grew at Dean’s horrified expression and his eyes sparkled mischievously.  There was no way this guy was Castiel, not the one Dean knew anyway.

“Wh-where’s Cas?” He stuttered out.  

Not-Cas gave out a breathy laugh.  “Castiel he’s uh-”  He shrugged and grinned widely, “He’s gone.”

Dean’s blood went cold.

“What the hell are you?”  He yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.

The prisoner walked closer to the bars-closer to Dean, and Dean had to stop himself from flinching back.  Castiel-or whoever was driving Castiel at the moment- kept moving forward until they were both face to face, the only thing separating them being thick iron bars.  

The prisoner gave another grim chuckle. “I’m Leviathan.  But, you can call me Lev.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Finally got this one out! I know I said I would try to update every week, but that's not cutting it, I'm afraid. I am very picky about my writing and stuff and review it and tweak it constantly before I finally decide it's decent enough to post to you guys, so that's why it takes a while between each chapter. So, if I haven't updated in a couple of weeks, do not fear! I have not abandoned the story! I am just busy obsessing over every little detail! 
> 
> Anywho, thanks for all of your lovely comments and kudos and bookmarks (oh, my!) They seriously are the highlights of my day and actually motivate me to get my ass in gear and get these updates to you guys quicker! 
> 
> But, enough of my ramblings, here is the next chapter and I hope you have a majestic day, stars-shines!
> 
> Enjoy :D

_“I was born with the devil in me._

_I could not help the fact that I was a murderer,_

_no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing._

_I was born with the evil one standing as my sponsor_

_beside the bed where I was ushered into the world,_

_and he has been with me since.”_

_-H.H. Holmes_

All Dean could do was stare.  What was happening?  He glanced at the weird inky web-like marks on the side of Castiel’s-or Leviathan’s face, and shuddered.  The con still had that mischievous smirk on his face, and his pupils were so dilated that Dean couldn’t even see but a very thin strip of blue around them.

Leviathan watched Dean examining him, seeming to get some sort of weird satisfaction out of the prison guards distress.

“What’s the matter Dean-o?  Cas got your tongue?”  The prisoner snickered. “Come on, Dean.  I’m sure you have questions.”  He prompted.

He was right, Dean had a lot of questions.  But it seems that he has lost the ability to form coherent sentences for the moment.  For some reason, all Dean could think was- _I made out with this thing_ and _I was-am attracted to this...thing._  His disgust with himself must have been showing on his face because Leviathan let out another low chuckle.

“Oh, calm down.  I wasn’t there when you and the angel were going on with your shenanigans.  I was taking a little nap, actually.”  For some reason, that snapped something in Dean and he was grabbing at the bars tightly so he could get right in the prisoners face, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach and making his cheeks burn, furiously.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at you crazy son of a bitch, but I’m not fucking buying it.”  He growled.  Leviathan, didn’t look perturbed in the slightest.

“Think what you will, it makes no difference to me.”  he stated blandly.  “But-It may mean a lot to your angel.”  He added with a smirk and quick quirk of his eyebrow. 

Dean frowned.  “What the hell do you mean by that?”  He asked, fist still wrapped tightly around the bars that separated him and the prisoner.  Leviathan clasped his hands behind his back and grazed his eyes over Dean, thoughtfully.  Dean held back a shudder as those inky eyes came back to meet his.

“I mean, Dean, that the angel is practically a withering, drooling, mess right now-if you haven’t noticed.”  Dean swallowed.  He didn’t know what the guy-thing-whatever it was, was getting at.  Everything was jumbling together into one big mess; one day Castiel Caelum is just a man, the next day he’s an anxiety ridden freak, then-an angel and now-Leviathan.  But then-wait…

Didn’t that documentary say that the man had alternate-personalities and like-psychosis and stuff?  That could explain everything, right?  The mood swings and his creepy new alter-ego...But then...where did those ink marks on his face come from?  Without thinking, he pulled his right hand off the bar, licked his thumb, then reached through the bars and rubbed it against the prisoners face where the marks were; No, dice.  They didn’t come off.  He thought maybe the con had drawn them on with a pen or something.  Even though there’s really no way he would have been able to get his hands on one, but it was worth a shot.

But apparently that stunt was enough for Leviathan to throw his head back and let out a loud cackle. Dean took his hand back and felt his face heat up with embarrassment and even more hostility than before.

“Oh, that was rich.”  Leviathan said as he wiped a mock tear off of his face.  Dean just glared at him.

“What is that?”  He asked begrudgingly.  He actually was really starting to hate this guy, but that didn’t put a halt to his curiosity.

Leviathan shrugged his shoulders, “Demons have their black eyes, I have this.”  He said running a finger down the side of his face.

Dean just stared at the mark before looking back up into his eyes.

“Why are you in Cas?”  He asked.

“Hm, right to the point, are we?”  Dean didn’t respond.  Leviathan just smirked then continued.  “I didn’t choose this.  He wanted us here.”  

“Wait, there’s more than you?”  Dean asked in disbelief.  Leviathan didn’t respond for a minute, instead choosing to turn his back to Dean and walk towards the other end of his cell, hands still clasped behind his back, which reminded Dean all too much of Castiel.  

“There _was_ more than one.”  he answered finally, voice suddenly dangerously low.  “But-the angel got rid of them-destroyed them.”  There was definitely hostility in Leviathan’s voice now, and Dean fought the urge to flinch because, okay that was kinda’ creepy.

He cleared his throat, “What do you mean he destroyed them?”

Leviathan let out something that sounded eerily like a growl, “I mean, the angel had a fucking God-complex and thought he could hold all of the souls in Purgatory in this tiny, worthless vessel.”  He turned around, his face covered in shadow once again.  “When it became too much, he tried to destroy himself.”  He let out a dark chuckle.  “I guess for the most part it worked, he’s completely ruined now.”  He added as an after thought.

Dean took a moment to take all this in and he scrunched his brow together.   _Purgatory?  Did he say Purgatory?  What souls?  What?_

He shook his head.  “Okay, so why the hell are you still here?  If he ‘destroyed’ you.”  Dean asked, his voice gradually growing stronger again even though he just used air-quotes which he will definitely punish himself for later.

 If this thing was going to hurt him, chances are it would have done it already, so Dean wasn’t worried.  Well, okay, scratch that-he was worried, this whole situation was definitely worry-worthy.  But he was going to nut up, and get to the bottom all of this.  He’s Dean fucking Winchester for fucks sake!

“I held on tight.”  Leviathan finally answered. Dean could hear the malice in his voice, but it also sounding like he was almost proud of himself. 

“O-kay.”  Dean replied sarcastically. “Well, why don’t you tell me why you tried to rip one of my prisoners legs off?  What about that?”  Leviathan let out a breathy chuckle, which Dean can’t say he was really all that surprised.

“Well, this is my vessel too-unfortunately.  I’d like to keep it intact.”  

Dean scowled. “Okay, then what about all the other times?  Like, with Uriel or those other guards who beat the snot out of Cas, huh?  Where were you then?”  He heard Leviathan let out a low growl.  Hm.  So this thing had a short temper.  Dean stored that little fact away for later.

“I do what I please.  May I remind you, _boy_ , that the angel, is an _angel._ ”  Leviathan sneered.  “He’s not as frail as you seem to think, he was a soldier of heaven, he can take a few smacks to the face.”

Deans head shot up.  “What do you mean ‘was’?”  

Leviathan snorted.  “You think they will take him back now?  He nearly destroyed, not only Earth, but Heaven as well.”  He shrugged.  “ I know, I was there.”  

Dean’s stomach did a weird little flip at this information.  There was a heaven?  Well, it should have been obvious, considering there are angels and they’ve got to have somewhere they like..nest and stuff, right?  Now that brought up a whole new truck load of questions.

“What-why?  Why would he do that?”  Dean asked.  “Like, I get that he’s like, fucked up and evil and shit, but-he doesn’t seem like the type to do the whole ‘world-domination’ thing.”  It crossed Deans mind that the thing he was talking to right now was probably ten times more fucked up and evil than Castiel was, but he pushed that thought aside.  He needed this information, he needed his questions answered, and this seemed to be his most reliable source at the moment.

Leviathan had his back to Dean again, studying the wall for no particular reason.

“You humans have a very broad definition of the term ‘evil’.”  He said, reminding Dean slightly of his  kindergarten  teacher that time when she scolded him for accidentally saying ‘ass-ream’ instead of ‘ice-cream’.  “Do you know the _exact_  definition of the word evil, Dean?”  Dean scowled.

“Dude, look, I just want answers, not some god-damned vocabulary lesson.”  He snapped, feeling incredibly irritated at the obvious thrill this guy was getting from testing Dean’s patience.  

“If you want answers, than it would be in your best interest to humor me, yes?”  Leviathan asked casually, but Dean could practically _hear_  the arrogant smirk that was probably forming across the guys face.  

Dean closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, trying to put a cap on his irritation.“Okay, fine.  What the fuck is the definition of evil, oh wise one?”

He heard Leviathan chuckle, “Well, since you asked so kindly.”  He shifted slightly and made his way over to the pile of neatly-stacked books at his bed-side, knocking them over with his foot and kicking some out of the way before he found the one he was looking for.  He bent over and picked it up, dusting it off a little bit with his hand and held it up to Dean with a sly smile.  It was a dictionary.

He then opened it, licking his finger once before flicking through the pages carelessly.  It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for.

“Aha,”  He exclaimed, pointing to a spot on the page, “Evil-adjective: morally wrong or bad; immoral;  wicked; _evil deeds_ ; _an evil life_.”   He hummed thoughtfully to himself and glanced up at Dean and snorted slightly, “I seem to fit the bill, what do you think?”  Dean didn’t say anything, just leaned against the bars with his arms crossed in front of him, glaring at the inmate with distaste.

Leviathan chuckled again before looking back down to the open book, “Ah, there’s more.  Evil-noun:  the force in nature that governs and gives rise to wickedness and sin.”  He paused as his eyes continued scanning the page.  “Oh, here’s a good one!  Evil-noun:  the wicked or immoral part of someone or something.  Hey, it even has a sentence with it!”  he glanced up to Dean with mock enthusiasm as he recited the definition, _“The evil in his nature has destroyed the good.”_  He snapped the dictionary closed and threw it carelessly back into the ruined pile of books that Castiel had probably spent most of his time organizing and stacking carefully to his preference.  

Dean rolled his eyes, “I feel like you’re trying to make a point or something but I’m not fluent in deep-dark and philosophical, so you’re going to have to translate.”

Leviathan made his way slowly back towards where Dean was standing before stopping a few feet away.

“You humans have to have an explanation for everything, it’s pathetic, really.”  He explained, and Dean couldn’t help but notice that Leviathan actually seemed disgusted every time he said the word ‘humans’  Like, he had just eaten something awful and had nowhere to spit it.  “You have your labs with your people with their white coats and goggles dissecting each and every little particle of the universe.  You have little classrooms with the little monkeys that sit quietly while the grown-ups explain to them what’s right and what’s wrong and tell them how to do this and that.”  It seemed that the guy was on a roll now, his aggravation with the human-race becoming more and more evident as he continued to speak.

“You have your Psychologists, who try to pick apart each individuals brains one cell at a time, and say, ‘Ah!  this is what went wrong, this is how this person feels and why they feel it!  Let’s give them some pills so that they can push those thoughts and feelings down-push them down so that they can feel the way _we_  want them to feel and think the way _we_  want them to think’.”  Leviathan paused and snorted to himself, but Dean didn’t miss the bitterness and pure hatred that was now radiating off his person.

“You have your books with  thousands upon thousands of words, each narrowed down to just a few definitions which are narrowed down to your little mud-monkey logic.”  Dean still didn’t say anything, he just let the proverbial smack-down on humanity continue with his mouth slightly agape.

Levithan went quiet, suddenly, as he met Dean’s eyes and curled his nose in disgust and obvious loathing.  “You humans just can’t accept the fact that some things cannot be defined, cannot be solved, cannot be dissected.”  He cocked his head to the side in a way that, again, reminded Dean too much of Cas for his liking.  “You don’t stop to think that maybe, evil doesn’t even exist.”  Dean felt a chill go up his spine and had to hold back a shudder.  “You narrow it down to right and wrong, black and white, insane-not insane, but how do you know for sure?  You aren’t born with a definition of what’s right and what’s wrong already engraved in your small petty little minds.  You aren’t born _magically_ insane. All of those ideas and thoughts in your head are put there by generations among generations of other humans who think that they know what is going on-but, let’s face it, they don’t _really know_  what’s going on.”  He let out a harsh laugh at Dean’s dumb-struck face, “What’s the matter Dean?  Too early for an existential crisis?"

Dean didn’t answer, his heart was beating too fast to be healthy and his mind was probably about to self-destruct in about 0.5 seconds.

“What about the devil?”  He asked, surprising himself and Leviathan with his seemingly new-found ability to speak.  “He’s evil, right?  Hell and all that-demons what about them?  They’re evil.”  Leviathan didn’t miss a beat though, he seemed like he was almost expecting this.

“You believe in Lucifer?”  He asked, amused, which caught Dean off guard a tad bit.  

“No, I don’t.  But I don’t believe in angels either.”  He answered as an explanation.  Leviathan seemed to roll this around in his mind and then nodded.

“I see.”  Dean felt slightly relieved that Leviathan had appeared to have somewhat simmered down, so he continued.  

“So the Devil’s evil.”  he said again.  “He was so evil God like, threw him into hell or whatever.”   Leviathan smirked cockily.

“Think about what you’re saying, Dean.”  He said.  “Lucifer wasn’t _always_ in hell, meaning, he was at one point in heaven which means-”  He raised his pointer finger in the air as if he were stating a very valid point, which-he was. “he wasn’t _always_ the bad guy.”  

Yup.  Dean’s brain has officially exploded and so has his patience.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, huh?  What is the cryptic psyco-babble bull-shit?  Is this your way of trying to get inside my head you, sick fuck?”  He was on the verge of yelling, but didn’t want to alert any of the other guards so he kept his voice low but dangerous.

Leviathan, however, didn’t seem perturbed in the least.  He just stood, calmly staring at Dean as if Dean was a child throwing a tantrum.

“I’m already inside your head, Dean-well, the angel is anyways.”  He smirked at that.  “But, you don’t want him in there, do you?  Because he’s ‘evil’, right?”  He asked mockingly, raising a knowing eyebrow at Dean who felt his face heat up to an unheard of temperature.

“That’s fucking right!   Him, and you-both of you!”  Dean snarled stepping closer to the bars, “Only difference is that he knows when to shut his damn mouth.”  

Leviathan let out a low growl and was suddenly right in Dean’s face, staring into his eyes through the bars.  “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”  Dean just stared at him.  “The angel isn’t evil you disgrace, he’s misguided.  Just like you, and your brother and the poor sap in the cell over, every person in this prison-every person on this god-foresaken planet.  You’re all putting your lives in the hands of things and ideas that you don’t even know exist.”  He slammed his hand on the bar causing Dean to flinch but not back away.  “Even the ones who don’t believe in a higher power, still give their lives to someone.  Whether it be an employee to their boss, a child to their parents, a soldier to their country.”  He cocked his head to the side, “A prisoner to a prison guard. Or even, a nut-case-”  he raised his pointer finger to his temple, “to his own mind.  It’s the blind leading the blind leading the blind.  It’s _pathetic_.”  He spat.

Dean was breathing hard now, this was information over-load, it was hurting his head.  He took a breath to steady himself, then shakily asked, “Why are you standing up for Cas anyways?  I thought you hated him for-whatever he did-trapping you in that body.”  Dean winced slightly at how stupid he sounded to his own ears.  Levithan stared at him for a few seconds more, before calmly stepping back and adjusting his scrubs.

“I do as I please.”  He answered, but Dean felt like there was more to it than that but he wasn’t going to push the guys temper anymore than he had to.  So, instead he asked the most important question on his mind.

“Where’s Cas?”  he whispered, “He’s still in there, right?”  He asked carefully.  Leviathan snorted.

“Yes, your angel is fine.  He’s napping, he’ll be back later, but if you would like to leave a message please, feel free to kiss my ass.”  Dean scowled and Leviathan just gave him a smug smile before turning his back to him again.  

Dean stared at the back of the man’s head for a few more seconds before letting out a frustrated groan and kicking the cell wall in anger, before turning, and making his way back down the corridor.  There was no use in trying to get anymore out of that thing at the moment.  Besides, it was almost morning rec time.  As he was walking by Gabriel’s cell once again, he noticed the inmate was still standing in the same spot he was the last time he saw him;  his arms hanging out between the bars, lollipop in mouth (seriously, where was he getting those things), and legs crossed over each other.

“Leviathans are ugly little buggers aren’t they?”  The convict asked conversationally, voice muffled by the sucker that was still in his mouth.  Dean’s boots squeaked obscenely on the marble floor as he abruptly came to a  halt and turned towards Gabriel.

“What did you say?”  He he asked, stunned.

Gabriel’s face was one of utter nonchalance and poise as he just stared at Dean and shrugged.

“No idea.  Must be all the sugar.  Makes me speak nonsense.”  He shrugged again before raising his eyebrows at Dean and winking once.  Dean just stared at him, eyes narrowed.  He was getting this eerie feeling that Gabriel knew more than he was letting on.  Dean glared at the all-too-innocent looking prisoner and lifted his hand to point at him,

“I’m onto you, Ludus.”  He said, albeit playfully but also with a hint of seriousness.  Like he said before, he likes Gabe, he’s annoying most of  the time, but he has that laid back attitude that Dean admires.

Gabriel chuckles, “Oh, Dean-o.  We’re back to using last names?  I thought we had something special!  You wound me!”  He replied in mock horror, holding his hand to his chest.  Dean chuckled and shook his head.

“Oh you just wait, Gabe.  And put that fucking lollipop away before I search your cell myself.”  He threatened.  

Gabe’s eyes widened and he reached up with his right hand to pull the sucker out of his mouth.  “You wouldn’t.”  

Dean just raised his eyebrows in a way that said, ‘try-me’ before turning on his heel and continuing on his way with one thought on his mind;  Something weird was going on in Inmanis Penitentiary.

****

It was finally rec time, which Dean was grateful for.  All of the prisoners were in one general area, and he could keep an eye on all of them, whist specifically keeping an eye on Caelum.  

As the inmates filed out of the building and into the fresh air, scattering throughout the fenced-in yard, Dean searched the boggle of white scrubs and angry tattoo'ed faces for Caelum and-bingo!  Dean could spot this particular case of sex-hair from a mile away.

Dean watched as Castiel made his way to the picnic table that Dean assumed was in the general vicinity of where the fight had taken place the day before.  Castiel-if it was even Castiel at the moment- stopped in front of the table, dusted off the seat lightly, before taking a seat, situating himself to where his legs were under the table, feet firmly on the ground..  He clasped his hands together, tightly and then tilted his head up towards the sky, eyes closed, brows drawn together.  The sunlight fell across his face perfectly, making it look like the inmate himself was glowing.

At first, Dean thought that Castiel was just sun-bathing or something. But then he noticed the slight furrow in the mans brow and the way that he was silently moving his lips.  Then it hit him-Castiel was praying.  Dean leaned back against the chain-linked fence and squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at this strange man that had somehow carved his way into Dean’s mind within the span of only a couple of weeks.

It was definitely Castiel, this time.  Dean didn’t know how he knew, but he did.  Plus, he had a feeling that Leviathan wasn’t exactly the praying type.  Nobody seemed to be messing with the angel, either.  Actually, everyone seemed to be avoiding him completely, besides the un-easy glances and nervous whispers his way.

_Huh-odd._

Dean continued staring at Cas, becoming enraptured in how serene and-shoot him for saying this but- _angelic_ he looked.  It was almost hypnotic and Dean, despite the odd looks Adam kept giving him from across the yard, kept on staring.  

Maybe, he should go over and make sure he’s alright...You know, it is kind of Dean’s job to make sure the prisoners are safe and secure, right?  Yeah, he could just-go over make sure Castiel was comfortable and felt safe then he could-

_Wait_.  It’s a fucking prison, not a Holiday Inn!  Jesus Christ, what the hell was going on with him?  Dean rubbed a hand over his face feeling suddenly exhausted and then glanced back at Castiel.   Still hasn’t moved from that one position-head turned skyward, eyes shut, hands clasped together.  Dean felt an unusual pang in his chest at the sight, because, while Castiel did look almost relaxed and practically in his element as he prayed to-whoever he was praying to-he still looked incredibly lonely.  And lonely was something Dean Winchester knew a thing or two about.  

He stood there for probably twenty minutes, fighting inwardly with himself before finally letting out a frustrated sigh and kicking his boot in the dirt once.  God help him he was going to talk to him.

It’s not against protocol to talk to the prisoners, it’s actually encouraged.  Something about, gaining their trust and just keeping an overall ‘peaceful’ atmosphere around the prison.  But Dean was never known for chit-chatting with his charges.  Maybe a few words here and there when he was in a good mood to some of the less-annoying inmates, but besides that, Dean just made sure they were where they were supposed to be and doing what they were supposed to be doing.  So, him approaching one of the more deranged prisoners in the yard to conversate with was probably an eye-brow raiser.  But, in his defense, he had a lot of fucking questions on his mind-mainly to do with Cas’s creepy alter-ego.

He made it to the table and stood behind Castiel, who still seemed to be in the midst of prayer.  Was it rude to interrupt an angel when he was probably talking to the over-lord or whatever the fuck?  Dean didn’t know, but he felt like he was interrupting some sort of angelic-phone call as he awkwardly cleared his throat and muttered a low, “Hey.”

Castiel’s eyes shot open, startled and he bent his head a little bit backwards so that his big blue eyes were looking directly up at Dean and-okay- that was kinda’ cute.  He looked nothing short of surprised and a little dubious as Dean stared down at him, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“Hello, Dean.”  He greeted, finally, his head still bent back in that awkward angle.  Dean noticed the web-like lines that were on his face earlier had disappeared.

“Yeah, uh-hey.”  He said again, smoothly.   _Cut to the chase, Winchester_.  “So, I heard about what happened yesterday.”  He spit out, finally.  Castiel’s face immediately clouded over and his lips formed into a thin line and his hands that were clasped together separated into two tightly balled fists.  Dean was suddenly worried the guy was about to have another panic attack or something so he held up his hands quickly, as if he was calming a wild horse.

“Woah, hey, chill man, it’s okay!  I already had a little chat with your-er...Other half.  Which, no offence dude, but he’s kind of a dick.”  Castiel’s fist loosened slightly but his face was still troubled.  He slowly took his legs out from underneath the table and turned to face Dean, who was still standing, awkwardly.  He looked down at his hands.

“I would rather we didn’t talk about him.”  He whispered.  “Please.”  Dean felt a tinge of disappointment in his gut.  He was really hoping to get some more answers, but Castiel looked like he was about to internally-combust and that was something Dean just wasn’t prepared to handle at the moment.

“Okay-yeah, whatever.”  He replied, Castiel still staring down at his hands.  He was probably thinking about Dean molesting his mouth just a couple of days ago and Dean honestly couldn’t blame him.  

It was a hell of a kiss.

Neither of them spoke for a while.  Just continued to look anywhere but each other, but then Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re really an angel then, huh?”  He whispered.  Castiel stiffened slightly, before nodding his head once.

“Not much of one, but yes.”  He answered hesitantly. Dean snorted and squinted up at the sky and shook his head.

“Man-I don’t know why, but I think I believe you.”  Castiel's head shot up.

“Why?”  he asked, curiously.  Dean just shrugged and sighed resignedly.

“I don’t fucking know.  I guess it’s just...too insane not to be true.  And with all the shit that’s been happening ever since you’ve got here, and just-I don’t know, instinct?”  Pause.  “Even though I still think you’re fucked up in the head.”  He added, not willing to let Cas totally off the hook yet.  Castiel flinched and looked back down but didn’t refute.  

Dean suddenly felt a small bubble of anger starting to form in his chest.  It wasn’t even at Castiel though, surprisingly.  It was at himself.  

He wanted to hate this man- _angel_ , so much. He wanted to be disgusted with him like he was when he first heard the name ‘Castiel Caelum’ on the news in what seems like forever ago.  He’d brutally murdered thousands of people, seemingly without cause!

But-it wasn’t exactly him, was it?  Wasn’t that what Leviathan was saying?  He said that Castiel was misled-

_"The angel isn't evil you disgrace-"_

No.  No, to Dean that wasn’t a good enough reason to do what Castiel has done, how could you do those things and not be a little evil?

_"He's misguided."_   

As Dean looked down into those sad blue eyes, he felt such hostility and anger and hatred for the fact that he just _couldn’t hate him_.  The guy was just too much of a wreck, too sad, too broken and then Dean realized-

How could you hate someone who already hated themselves enough for the whole world?  

Castiel was still staring up at Dean, his face contorted into an un-definable expression and Dean came to the conclusion that the angel probably heard all of his thoughts, considering they _were_ pretty loud.  Dean didn’t care at the moment though.  He just stared back down at him, his face a mixture of confusion and virulence.  

“Why did you do it?”  He finally asked, his voice hollow, even to his own ears.  Why did he even care _why_ the guy did it?  He still did it, it’s not like an explanation would change anything.  But Castiel seemed to know that too.  So instead of offering up an excuse, or anything to attempt to defend his actions, he merely looked back up to the sky and said;

“There are some things, once they are done, that we can never question, because if we did, we wouldn’t be able to go on.”  Castiel looked at Dean, sadly.  “And we have to go on, every single day.”

****

It was Dean’s lunch break, when his whole world was flipped upside down.  He was making his way out of the building, mind still reeling from the odd conversation with Cas, when he noticed a prisoner-transport vehicle pulling in through the gate.  He frowned and made his way over to Bobby, who was standing a little ways off.

“I didn’t know we were getting anyone new today.”  He said.  Bobby glanced over at him and back at the transport vehicle as it stopped and watched as the policeman made there way to the side of the bus to open the doors.

“Yeah, me neither.  Just found out ten minutes ago.  Don’t even have the paperwork yet.”  The old man grumbled, obviously irritated with the short-notice.  Dean watched as a guard walked onto the bus to fetch the mysterious prisoner and drag him off the bus and- _no_.  

“What the fuck?”  he asked, not believing what he was seeing.  He squinted his eyes, not sure if he was hallucinating or not.  He heard Bobby’s intake of breath beside him, and he was sure.

_Sam._   

“Hey!  Hey get your fucking hands off him!”  he roared, voice loud with panic as he started sprinting towards the bus, the guards and policeman turning to look at him-startled.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?  Get away from him!”  Dean shouted as he was getting closer, he heard Bobby’s voice yelling something at him but he couldn’t even comprehend that right now.  He was almost there when he was blocked by two police officers,

“Sir, we suggest you back up, we need to get the prisoner inside the building without distraction, please.”  Dean shoved him back and tried to run passed but was grabbed on both sides and pulled back.

“No!  No!  Get the fuck off of me!”  He snarled trying to shake off the officers to no avail.  His head was pounding, he couldn’t breathe, God was he having a fucking panic attack?  

He heard Bobby run up behind him, trying to hastily explain the situation to the officers, but Dean’s focus was on one person.

“Sammy!”  He shouted, desperately.  Sam’s eyes, blood-shot and red rimmed- immediately shot up to meet his brothers and both relief and utter panic shot across his face.

“Dean!”  He shouted back instinctively trying to run to his older-brother but roughly being pulled back by the two guards on either side of him.  Dean once again began to struggle against the officers’ grip.

“Let him go, you sons of bitches!”  he shouted, voice cracking in desperation.  They paid Dean no mind.  Instead they started dragging a terrified Sam towards the prison doors.  Sam looked back desperately at Dean, eyes wide in fear,

“Dean!  Call Jess, call Jess, tell her I love her and I’ll figure this out!”  He pleaded.

Dean felt like he couldn’t breathe.  Why was this happening?  

Then, one name came to mind  

_Uriel._

Yes, there are indeed many definitions of evil.  And Uriel is one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Lawd! 
> 
> I worked so friggen' hard on that chapter I have no idea how it turned out. 
> 
> Oh! And a snack-pack to anyone who can spot the Caragh M. O'Brien quote!
> 
> (Hint: A lot of the things Castiel says are quotes from books, considering he likes to read)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

  _"This is the grand finale of a life poorly spent_

_and the end result is just overwhelmingly depressing._

_It's just a sick, pathetic, wretched, miserable life story,_

_that's all it is._

_How it can help anyone, I've no idea."_

_-Jeffrey Dahmer_

 

 Sam grunted as the guards shoved his new outfit at him. He couldn't help but feel like white scrubs were made more for mental patients rather than prisoners. That word sent a shiver down his spine- _prisoner_. That's what he was now. Not just any prisoner either, but a prisoner in a prison created for monsters. Is that what he was? A monster?

He hurriedly dressed himself, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the whole 'sanitation' process. He had barely had time to put his shoes back on before he was roughly being pulled out of the medical center and down a narrow hallway. He assumed he was being led to the processing station. Sure enough, one of the guards scanned his card and pushed through the doors, pulling him towards the front desk that was surrounded by what looked like Plexiglas. The guard knocked on the glass, getting the attention of the dark haired woman inside. Her name tag said, 'Tessa'.

"Got a Samuel Winchester, here." he said, smirking when Tessa's eyebrow shot up. She glanced over at Sam then back to the guard.

"As in Dean Winchester's little brother?" She asked, incredulously as she turned around to type something into the computer. The guard chuckled and nodded,

"The very same. Who'd a thought, huh?" Sam was mildly annoyed that they were talking about him like he wasn't even there, but he knew even if he let his annoyance known, it wouldn't be rectified. He may as well not even have an opinion anymore. Not in here.

Tessa made a small noise of annoyance as she frowned at the computer. "Damn. All the cells are full in the fish-tank." She muttered, clicking a few more times on the mouse.

"Ugh, hate when that happens." The guard sighed. "So, do you want to just go ahead and give this one his cell number? I mean, I don't think he's gonna' be much of a problem. He is just a fancy pants lawyer after all." He chuckled at the last part and Sam felt his ears burn. He was about to argue that being a 'fancy pants lawyer' was far more respectable than being some prison guard, but out of respect for his brother he kept his mouth shut.

"Looks like we're gonna' have to." She said, shrugging and typing a few more things into her computer before going over to the filing cabinet and pulling the drawers open. Sam watched as she pursed her lips and pulled out a file. "Huh, looks like we're in luck, his file is already here." She said holding up the manila folder labeled 'Winchester.S' .

Sam's eyes widened and his stomach dropped. How was his file already here? Tessa was totally oblivious to Sam's obvious distress, or she just didn't care. She simply shrugged and wrote  something down in his file and typed a few more things into the computer before turning back to them, completely ignoring Sam.  
"Alright, he's in C-104." She informed, handing the guard a piece of paper through the small opening. The guard glanced at it and let out a loud guffaw, before looking over at Sam, with an eerie smile.

"You're in for a good time, Sammy-boy." Sam just glared at him, trying to pass the comment off as a scare tactic that probably all the guards use on the new inmates. It only he were so lucky.

The guard practically manhandled him down the row of cells. Sam was surprised to find that most of the inmates he passed looked relatively normal. They hardly even looked dangerous! He couldn't help but wonder how many were in the same situation he was in.

As they were walking, they passed by a cell which seemed to hold one person, if he even _was_ a person, that is. It was a man, kinda short, dirty blonde hair, and a mischievous looking face. In his mouth was what looked like a cigarette-or wait, was that a lollipop? As the guard was passing by he smacked the candy out of the prisoners hand, causing the man to scoff in protest.

"Not cool, amigo!" He called after them. Sam looked back at the man, curiously, only to be met by twinkling golden eyes looking right back at him. The prisoner smirked, before lifting his hand and snapping his fingers. Sam's jaw dropped open as a brand spanking new lollipop appeared right out of thin air and into the guys mouth. _What?_ The inmate simply winked before stepping away from the bars and disappearing into his cell.

  
Sam faced back forward, unable to even comprehend what he just saw. Sure, this was a prison for Supernatural creatures, who had God knows what kind of powers. But Sam had never read anything about such a creature who could pull things out of thin air-especially in here! The prison is warded out the wazoo, so how did he-

His thoughts were interrupted by the guard roughly grabbing him by the arm and bringing him to a stop.

  
"Welcome to your new home, Winchester." The guard said, a mocking lilt to his voice. God, this guy was getting on his last nerve. "I'm sure you and your new cellmate will get along splendidly." He started unlocking the shackles around Sam's wrist before grabbing a card out of his pocket and scanning it across the monitor. The iron bars buzzed and swung open and Sam was shoved roughly inside. He turned around to look back at the guard as the bars came to a close again.

"Wait-when can I get a phone call? I didn't even get to speak to a lawyer yet, this can't even be fucking legal?" Sam shouted out as he clenched his fist tightly around the bars. The guard just smirked at him before turning on his heel and walking away.

"If you're about to be slaughtered just scream and someone will come." The guard threw over his shoulder. Then paused his step, cocking his head to the side, "Maybe...But probably not." He shrugged. And with one last cocky smirk at Sam he disappeared down the corridor.

Sam let out a loud growl of frustration and banged his fist against the bars. Of course all of this wasn't legal under normal circumstances. But he had studied law long enough to know that when it came to supernatural creatures, the law didn't exactly apply.

He felt tears sting the back of his eyes when he thought about Jess and- _jesus_ -his unborn child. He was about to let out an honest to God sob, when he heard the sound of a page turning behind him. Sam, startled and immediately spun around, how could he forget that he wasn't alone?  
There was a man, sitting on the bed on the far right, book in hand, back facing Sam.

"Sam Winchester," The man said, his voice gruff, but somehow calming at the same time.

"Uh, yeah?" Sam replied, confused as to how the man knew his full name.

  
The man shut the book and set it down neatly on the pile beside his bed, making sure it sat just right-spine on the outside, title side up-before standing up. His back was still facing Sam as he clasped his hands behind his back and cocked his head to the side. "The boy with the demon blood."  He continued. It was odd. He didn't say it in a way that was spiteful or even judgmental, but like he was just making a simple observation.

"How-how do you know that?" He demanded, taking a step towards the man. Nobody knew about that, except Dean. Hell, he hadn't even told Jess.

The man let out a small sigh. "I know a lot of things, unfortunately."

Sam frowned. "How is knowing things unfortunate?" He asked, warily because he didn't really trust this guy in the slightest.  
The man lifted his head up slightly, looking as if he was studying the wall before him.

"Knowing too much tends to drive people to insanity." Pause. "I think, being too aware is most humans down-fall."

Sam stared at the mans back, stunned. "Uh," He couldn't think of anything else to say and it was quiet for a minute until the man suddenly straightened and cocked his head back to the side.

"Did you know that some butterflies flight speed can be up to 12 miles per hour?" The man informed Sam as if it was the most awe-inspiring thing in the world. Sam was honestly getting incredibly confused and he didn't know how dangerous this guy was just yet so he decided to humor him.

"Uh, no I-I didn't know that." The man nodded, excitedly, reminding Sam of a little boy for some reason.

"It's true! Some moths can fly up to 25 miles per hour! I find that fascinating." He said, almost reverently.

  
Sam nodded, even though he knew the man couldn't see him with his back turned towards him. "Uh, do you mind if I ask who you are? I mean, we're going to be living together for a while, so-"

"You may call me, Cas." The man interrupted. "That's the name your brother has dubbed for me...Although, I'm not sure if it's for the fact that my name has numerous syllables or that he is mocking me by implying that I am not 'of God' anymore." Sam frowned, that uneasy feeling was back, and something was tugging at the back of his memory but he couldn't exactly grasp it. Then-it hit him like a train.

"Wait, 'tiel means 'of God' so that means." Sam's eyes widened and his blood ran cold. "Holy shit, you're Castiel Caelum." Sam raised his hands to either side of his head in disbelief, and-he'll deny it if anyone asks but-a little fear.

The man dropped his arms to his side and turned around, and Sam finally got a full view of his face. Nobody could mistake that face. It had been the face plastered across newspapers and almost every news channel on TV for the past 6 months.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam Winchester." He said, and Sam was caught off guard by the mans sincerity. He didn't return the sentiment, because no.  He was not exactly excited to be meeting one of the most blood-thirsty murderers of all time.

"Although, this is a dangerous place for you to be." Cas continued, and Sam stiffened and Cas noticed. "Do not misunderstand me, I do not mean this cell. In fact, you are probably safer in this cell with me than anywhere else. I simply mean this prison in general." He replied, face open, blue eyes seemingly staring into Sam's very soul.

"Wha-why is that?" Sam asked, voice slightly off due to the shock of this whole fucked up situation.

Castiel stared at him a moment, eyes unblinking. "No need to worry, I'll watch over you." Sam's eyebrows rose to where they almost disappeared into his hair.  
"Why would you do that?" He asked, suspiciously.

Castiel looked down at his feet and frowned as if he was wondering why himself. Then he looked up and met Sam's eyes and with the utmost determination replied, "Your brother is a good man, and you are important to him. So I'll watch over you."  He shrugged his shoulders at the end of the sentence, as if it was the most logical conclusion anyone could have come up with, and to him, maybe it was.  Before Sam got a chance to even so much as reply, Cas walked back over to his bed picked the book he was previously reading up, flipped open the page, and continued reading from where he'd left off.

Sam stared after him, dumbfounded. He figured that the conversation was closed for now, so he slowly walked over to his bed opposite of Castiel's, and sat down.  Grimacing at the unsavory texture of the mattress. He couldn't help but wish things would start making a little more sense. Then a though struck him and he glanced over at Cas, who was hunched over his book, eyes scanning the page at an unnatural speed.

"Hey, uh, Castiel-or uh, Cas?" He asked. Castiel glanced up at Sam, seeming to be a bit surprised that he was being addressed.

"Yes, Sam?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, which Sam figured must be something he did a lot.

"You said having too much knowledge makes people insane, and that you have a lot of knowledge, so uh-are you saying that you're-" he tried to think of the nicest way to put it.

"Yes, I am." Cas answered, before Sam could even finish his sentence.

Sam looked at him, "You're what?" He asked, confused.

"I am insane. But I find that it's..." he trailed off as if looking for the right word, and Sam waited. "I find it very human." He finished. He nodded to himself as if confirming what he said, and then with one last small, strangely friendly smile at Sam, he went back to his book. Leaving Sam with even more questions than he had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I know, I know it's been forever but I promised you I wouldn't abandon this and I shall keep that promise to the death! (Although, I hope it doesn't come to that) I've been busy with classes and stuff and not to mention that it's almost the holidays (I am so stoked). But anyways, updates should be more frequent now and I won't make you wait as long as you did last time! 
> 
> Thank you all for the wonderful comments and kudos like, seriously, they make my day and they also help get my butt in gear on updating! 
> 
> Anyways, happy Halloween and I love you all and hope you stay safe!
> 
> Stay golden, lovelies!
> 
> P.S. This is the link to my Destiel fic rec page: http://destielficstocope.tumblr.com  
> If you're looking for any new Destiel fics to read. We just added our tags page, so check it out if you're interested :) 
> 
> And here is my personal blog: http://im-super-im-natural.tumblr.com/


End file.
